


On Every Day You Need The Light

by Dreamy_Darling



Category: RWBY
Genre: AU, Alternate Universe, Baby Yang Xiao Long, Blow Jobs, Child Ruby Rose (RWBY), Clover Ebi Lives, Clover Ebi Needs a Hug Too, Clover gets injured but lives he's okay, Clover is a nursery teacher?, Clover lives in Patch, Eventual Romance, Eventual Smut, Fighting Grimm, Fluff and Smut, Gay Sex, Grimm Fight, I know I said there are oc's in this but they're very minor background characters, I'm Bad At Tagging, Ironwood is kind of a dick but you know, M/M, Mentioned Raven Branwen, Nursery au kinda?, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, PTSD, Panic Attacks, Prosthesis, Prosthetic Spine, Protective Qrow Branwen, Qrow Branwen Needs a Hug, Qrow is Yang and Ruby's guardian, Romance, Shower Sex, Slow Burn, Smut, Such as one of Jaune's sisters who currently doesn't exist in the show yet, Summer is still dead sorry, Toddler Ruby Rose, Yang is also a child, Yeah Clover Got Fricked Up, adorable children, briefly, mild PTSD, so far - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-18
Updated: 2021-01-29
Packaged: 2021-03-04 02:53:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 32
Words: 108,558
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24796492
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dreamy_Darling/pseuds/Dreamy_Darling
Summary: After miraculously surviving from a horrific injury while out on the field, Clover travels to his old hometown to heal. Well, he tries to. The truth is, he’s lonely.Meanwhile, Qrow is barely coping. After losing his entire team, he’s left responsible for his two young nieces, while dealing with his own grief. Well, he tries to. The truth is, he’s lonely too.But perhaps they don’t need to be alone anymore.(OR: kind of a collection of drabbles that follows a single AU narrative I made up. The first parts are kind of sad but it gets better I promise. Lots of backstory but it’s all explained. Just me writing stuff I like.)
Relationships: Qrow Branwen/Clover Ebi
Comments: 406
Kudos: 237





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Update: So before I started this story, I was actually inspired by a drawing by the lovely nammynammy_namnam on Instagram! It just occurred to me that I should put up a message here to let you all know what inspired this lovely little fic of mine. ^_^ It's not a carbon copy of how I imagine my Clover's prosthetic is but it was a very strong starting point, so please check them out!  
> (The drawing is of Clover post Ch12 where he survives, but with a prosthetic spine - I'm sure you can figure out how it inspired me. It's not gory, but I figured I'd let you all know.)

Clover remembered blood. Blood and pain and darkness.

There was the sunset, golden against endless fields of white. Freezing cold gripping his back, keeping him stuck in place. There was a hot agonising pain cutting through his chest and the sickening taste of metal coated his tongue and the back of his throat. It was wet and felt oddly foreign, seeing as it came from his own body. His own blood was drowning him. His chest was on fire but the rest of him was frozen. He couldn’t even move his head to look at his wound or the place he’d fallen or… anything. All he could see was the sky, changing over his eyes from shades of blue to yellow, a single moment of peace completely unattached to Clover’s little Hell.

He could feel a wet warmth bleeding over his chest, and the sky blurred like watercolours as tears filled his eyes. He was mortally wounded, he was in pain, and he was all alone. He was frightened. But he wasn’t dying. Well, he was dying for sure, but it was beginning to dawn on him that he wasn’t going to die anytime soon. A bout of uncharacteristic bad luck, but his Aura had been depleted to nothing. And yet… there Clover was. Still staring up at the vibrant sky. His mother once told him that when artists died, the gods let them paint the sky. Why was he thinking of that? He wasn’t sure. He supposed it was just what people did when they waited for death. Had to pass the time somehow.

Anything to distract from the pain that gripped his chest like the talons of a Nevermore. It felt like his ribs had been cracked open to make way for the blade that had pierced through him. Was he really going to die alone? It wasn’t how he’d imagined dying, not that he’d imagined it much to begin with.

Blackness finally ebbed at the corners of his vision, his mouth slowly filled with blood, and the snow around him became stained red. His blood froze into red ice around him, and Clover still just wouldn’t die.

Clover’s eyes began to close. He was tired, he was so tired. It hurt. He couldn’t think, didn’t want to. The lovely clear sky became breached by airships. Atlas, because who else would it be? But he didn’t mind. He didn’t mind closing his eyes and letting the cold take him. His body felt empty, much of his lifeblood was currently melting and freezing into the snow, fusing with the ground around him. It was so cold the blood on his chest froze the fabric to his skin, gripping him. Clover’s breathing began to shallow, and a terrifying sense of calm enveloped his mind. So he closed his eyes as the airships circled above him, and darkness enveloped the world.

\---

Clover had vague memories of a hospital, the ceiling white and sterile above him. People’s eyes and only their eyes, the rest of their faces covered by surgical masks. Their expressions were bleak, worried, but somehow still blank. They were all strangers.

And then... more darkness. Endless. Everlasting. Then a worrying numbness. Then cold, unyielding metal. Not the taste, but the real thing clinging to his skin, pinching and piercing.

Clover couldn’t move for the longest time. He was strapped to the bed by long strips of leather, fastened tight. Most of his own face was covered by an oxygen mask, cold plastic tubes in his nose and another tube taped around his mouth, pulling on his cracked lips. But he couldn’t find it in himself to care. He just felt deadened. There weren’t just needles and tubes going into his body, pumping liquid sleep into his bloodstream. No, there were wires. Red and black and white. He could hear the low hum of electricity moving in them, in… him. He could just about muster up curiosity, but that was it. He just wanted to focus on breathing, and the greying white walls around him. He preferred dying out in the snowfields; at least the view was nicer.

Clover was surrounded by machines, beeping and whirring and buzzing. Holographic screens floating by him, just out of his proper view. The beeping was the worst, distracting him and making him jump from time to time; it took a while to figure out in his fog-filled brain that it was his heartbeat. It would quicken sometimes, and he felt oddly relieved when he heard it stop. More darkness, more nothingness, more wires and tubes and monitors. Clover had lost all concept of time, of anything at all. If someone told him he’d been in an underground emergency medical ward for the better part of 4 months, Clover… wouldn’t have reacted, in all fairness. Not until the doctors decided they didn’t have to keep him as doped up, once it was clear he’d make a slow but sure recovery.

According to the x-rays, something long and sharp had gone straight through his body. It smashed through his spine and made room for itself outside his chest. It split his ribs, splintered his breastbone to nothing, but through some miracle that he couldn’t even thank his semblance for, he lived. His organs had been scathed, but not skewered. Fixable. Granted, he also had the finest Atlas tech and the most experienced doctors and surgeons working on him for months on end at all hours.

But Clover should have been dead. He should have been, but he wasn’t.

The General had apparently explained what had happened once he was awake, but Clover had no memory of it, still relying so heavily on morphine to just cope with the trauma his body had received. But later down the line, when he wasn’t relying on (as much) morphine being fed into his system, a crew of doctors told him that the procedures were a success.

What procedures?

They’d replaced many of the vertebrae in his spine with mechanical prosthetics, even better than what money could buy. What was left of his breastbone had been picked out with tweezers and, he guessed it, replaced with metal. His ribs had been pieced back and “synchronised” with the new parts, now all he had to do was rest.

His chest felt... Heavier. Most prosthetics these days, especially ones made in Atlas, weighed the same as the original body part, but when Clover breathed, it felt foreign. He couldn’t tell if it was some placebo effect or the drugs, but breathing took more work. And he didn’t dare try to sit up even after the leather straps were loosened (not undone, just loosened).

Nurses soon came in for his first conscious bath, and forced him to sit up, which he gingerly did. He could hear the metal almost scraping within him; it made him cringe. And when they unwrapped his bandages...

It was right there. He stared down at his chest, and his reflection stared back. The metal was shiny, silver, like a mirror shard jutting out from between his pecs. His skin wanted to peel around the metal, which his doctors noticed. After trying and failing to keep the skin in place, it was decided that they could and really should cover it.

Another surgery, a skin graft, and Clover was plunged into darkness once again. He wondered, when he was capable of wondering, how his other surgeries went. Did his luck help? Were there complications? Was he dead at any point at all?

He didn’t know, and hadn’t the strength yet to ask.

The chest piece was covered up, and where there was once metal there was now a long, jagged scar dragging itself into a reluctant circle around his chest. They’d said that the same couldn’t be done for his back, different structure, too much movement. But thankfully his skin and body in general had taken to the new spine like a duck to water. Clover could even walk... Eventually.

His teammates would visit him sometimes. Only sometimes. But he appreciated the company. Marrow even brought him flowers. Elm had been worried sick, or so she said. Granted, she was often genuine, and Clover appreciated that. But they still had missions, they all did, so they rarely visited. Clover didn’t hold it against them, but it did make him realize how lonely his life would be without his job. The hospital was lonely.

Even with the finest Atlas technology, the finest Atlas everything, recovering from an injury like that was never going to be easy. Clover’s luck probably helped in ways he couldn’t even ponder, but he wasn’t going to be out on missions any time soon. So it didn’t surprise him when General Ironwood came to visit regarding the matter.

It was a cold Autumn afternoon, and Clover had been moved to an above-ground ward. He sat by the open window, thankful for the natural light. The air was cold, brisk, but not windy. It just felt nice to feel fresh, moving air on his skin, feeling the goose bumps raise on his forearms. The sun was setting, a nice curtain-close to how the sky was when it all started. The clouds were filled with heated oranges and yellows, but also pinks and even a hint of purple from the direction of where night was coming in.

“You know you could catch a cold,” the General’s voice snapped Clover back to his senses, “it’d be embarrassing if you survived all that only to be taken out by sickness.”

“General Ironwood, sir-” Clover tried not to grunt as he lifted himself to his feet. Quick movements still sent throbs down his back and through his legs.

But Ironwood only raised his hand, ensuring Clover it was alright. The door was shut behind him, and the General approached. “At ease, soldier. How’s the back holding up?”

“Like a charm, sir.” He tried to hide his own smile. The nurses at least seemed to appreciate his persevering humour, but he didn’t expect the General to.

As predicted, Ironwood didn’t react, he only nodded like he was taking note. “Tell me, where did you grow up?”

Clover blinked. “Sir?”

“Where you grew up, Ebi. It’s not a hard question.”

“Uh – Patch, Sir. In Vale… Sir.” Why was this important? It was all on Clover’s file anyway.

Ironwood nodded, his expression never faltering. “Do you still have any family there?”

Also on his file. Where was the General going with this…? “No, sir.”

Ironwood nodded again, and a short silence fell between the two. “You should go back there to finish the rest of your recovery. It seems you’ve earned a break.”

Clover’s eyebrows furrowed. “With all due respect, Sir, Atlas is my home.”

“Of course, and you’re proud of it. As we all are. But Patch is quiet, and unassuming. Well-protected by the natural borders and, it seems, nostalgic to you personally.”

Clover frowned. He hadn’t been to Vale in years, not even on missions… Why would it be suggested? Surely it would be better for him to stay in Atlas, under the eyes of the doctors? It didn’t make sense. “I don’t understand, Sir…”

“Don’t worry, Ebi. It’s not your job to understand orders.” Ironwood waved his hand. “Think of it as a mission in and of itself. Atlas needs you fully recovered, and a few quiet months far away from… all this, will help.”

Clover opened his mouth, and shut it again. This wasn’t like the General. This wasn’t usual. But he said it was an order. So Clover bit his inner cheek, and nodded. “Yes, Sir.”

Ironwood might have smiled for a moment, but on second thought probably not. He turned to leave, the light catching the metal on his forehead for just a moment. And Clover found himself speaking before he could stop. “General Ironwood?”

The General turned to him, raising an eyebrow.

Clover swallowed. “The spine, what’s exposed, it feels… cold.” He glanced over the General for a short moment. It wasn’t common knowledge, but he was privy to the fact that the General was about half robotic at this point. Clover couldn’t be sure on the specifics – and really thought it was rude asking – so he had no idea which… pieces were mechanical, and to what extent. But he had to know one thing. “Do you feel… cold?”

Ironwood stared at Clover, his eyes blank like snow. “Freezing. You get used to it.”

Clover shivered once the General left, and he closed the window.

\---


	2. Chapter 2

_Qrow could hear them arguing again. Raven cursing and roaring, Taiyang trying desperately to diffuse whatever had pissed her off this time. He stood his ground, which was good, but it made calming Raven impossible._

_Qrow hadn’t been allowed to hold Yang when she was born. Raven held her tight and told him to back off. He had to at least appreciate the surprising maternal instinct, but Tai had been furious. She was cautious of Qrow’s semblance, which he understood (as much as it hurt him), but Tai kept insisting it was fine. Once little Yang was brought back home, the tiny delicate pink lump she was, Tai had persuaded (peer-pressured) Qrow into sneaking a cuddle with the little one while Raven rested._

_Yang had weighed nothing in his arms. He was so, so scared of hurting her, of dropping her or upsetting her somehow. But all she ever did was look up at him, her eyes that dark blue shade most babies had, yawned silently, and pooped. And he loved her so, so much._

_Tonight’s argument wasn’t about him, though, not from what he could hear. All Qrow could hear was something about the old tribe, about the dangers of Salem. And from Tai’s side, about how everything was going to be okay. Everything else was blocked out by Yang’s crying. He’d climbed in from the window, first as a bird, to check on the baby. But once he heard the screaming he changed back into himself._

_“Hey, pipsqueak, it’s alright.” Qrow lifted her from the cot, gently, if not gingerly. Summer had shown him a way of picking the little things up, but he was certain she was better at baby management than he’d ever be. “It’s only Mommy and Daddy getting angry... again.”_

_Yang stared at him for a few moments, before her face contorted into a scrunched up red ball and she wailed again. He sighed and sat in the rocking chair with her. It was an old chair Ozpin had gifted the couple – no clue why he had one lying around but nobody asked – and despite being made of hard wood it was one of the comfiest chairs in the house. Summer had knitted a blanket that was draped across the seat. It wasn’t particularly the best in terms of skill, but Qrow still felt bad sitting on it._

_He held Yang to his chest and rocked with her, trying to soothe the infant. “It’s alright, it’s alright, I’m here now. Uh…” He glanced around the room for something, anything to help. A story book lay on the drawers by the chair, so he moved gingerly to grab it with one hand while nestling Yang into the crook of his other arm. “How about a story…? Anything to block out those two. Having that riot going on while you’re trying to sleep? No wonder you’re crying.”_

_Yang glared at him._

_He sighed again and opened the book. “Uh… how about this one? The Patient Fisherman? Do you like that one?”_

_Yang still stared at him, before she jumped at the sound of Raven’s angered scream._

_Qrow quickly began reading before she cried again. “Once upon a time, there was an old fisherman who went fishing one day. I mean what else would he do…?”_

_More yelling from the next room._

_“The fisherman waited all day for a fish, but not a single fish came along, and he was very sad.” He took the pacifier clipped to Yang’s onesie and she latched onto it, more interested in his voice now than the scary noises outside the room. He smiled in relief at her relaxed face, still red and still a little puffy, but it could be much worse. “Finally night time came, and other fishermen had long since gone back home with their buckets of fish. But still the fisherman waited. Just before he packed up, tired and bored, the largest fish he’d ever seen flopped onto his boat, and his patience was rewarded. He went home, and made a feast for him and his family…”_

_Yang rested her head on Qrow’s chest, staring up at his face. She cooed softly._

_The screaming stopped, and within a minute the door to the nursery opened. Qrow froze, expecting Raven, but instead it was Tai. Tai blinked in surprise at seeing Qrow, but he smiled weakly and went over to the pair._

_“How long have you been here?” Tai reached out for Yang, and Qrow passed her over. Tai cuddled the baby and sighed as she grizzled quietly._

_“Long enough to hear you two. What was that all about?” He got up out of the rocking chair._

_Tai hesitated. “She wanted… She thinks it might be a good idea to go back to the tribe. Take Yang, pack up, go.”_

_“Sounds like her.” Qrow sighed. “You look like shit.”_

_“Not in front of the baby!” He hissed, only for Qrow to roll his eyes. Tai sighed. “Yeah… you could say I’m pretty Tai-ered.”_

_Qrow glared at him._

_“…Summer would be laughing.” Tai pouted._

_“Yeah well, you don’t get Summer, so you’re stuck with me.” He turned to the open window._

_“Wait, you’re going?”_

_“Yeah, I just thought I’d come say hi, but…”_

_Tai glanced down at Yang. “Why don’t you stay for a bit?”_

_Qrow hesitated. “You sure that’s…?”_

_“She flew off straight out the window.” Tai sighed. “I could use an extra pair of eyes while I get dinner ready.”_

_Qrow hesitated once more, but he relented and shut the nursery window. He followed Tai downstairs, and sat with Yang by the table as Tai started chopping vegetables, boiling water. She gripped one of Qrow’s long fingers, staring at it with curiosity before looking at her own hand._

_“It’s like you two have been constantly arguing since this one finally… arrived.” Qrow noted. Summer had told him of what she’d overheard the few times she’d visited._

_Tai sighed. “It must be the hormones. She just wants what’s best for Yang.” He sounded hopeful._

_“…All this stuff with… Salem and…” He didn’t even like saying that name out loud, “I know Raven, I know when she’s stressed or scared, she just withdraws. She needs to, to think.”_

_“I just want to be there for her, we’re a team…” Tai looked out at the window, at the setting sun._

_“I know. But crowding her will just frighten her – don’t tell her I said that.” Qrow glanced back own at Yang, who’d spat out her pacifier in favour of gumming on her uncle’s knuckle. “Once she’d had space to think things through, she’ll come back.”_

_Tai seemed to relax a little at that, and he went back to preparing the food._

_Raven never came back._

_Her clothes, her belongings, everything that alluded to her very existence was gone the following morning. Nobody knew when she’d slipped in. Nobody knew when she’d gone._

_She had thought things through._

\---

Patch really did bring back memories. The sun was warm on Clover’s skin, a feeling he’d nearly forgotten, having spent so long in Atlas. The towns were quaint, quiet, happy. It didn’t feel as formal as Atlas, or as depressing as Mantle. The air smelled like salt and the sea, at least on the outskirts of the island.

He hadn’t had to wait too long for the train, which had a charming old style that made him smile. It hovered above the tracks, like most did, but it looked so vintage. Old brown paint and paper maps. Or perhaps Clover was just used to the constant updating everything in Atlas had. He wasn’t really used to being alone, didn’t like the quiet it brought, so he sat in a carriage that had more people even though he knew he could have moved further down. He just like the rustling and background of people being people. He winced a little as he sat, the separate pieces of his back taking an unnaturally long moment to settle properly.

_“You get used to it.”_ The General’s voice still rung in his head. Would Clover ever get used to _this_? It still hurt, and he felt so much weaker than he used to be. It had changed everything… he even looked different. Staying so long underground had made him paler, thinner even. He hated how the slight bagginess of his clothes reminded him of it. But he laid back in his seat and tried not to think. If he was being given leave, order or not, Clover supposed he may as well take the time to enjoy himself a little. He loved the view outside, the long intense blue of the sea in the distance, the clear sky, the silhouette of buildings. Comforting images he remembered from when he was little. The ocean had always been his favourite place as a child – well any body of water really, but there was something about the sea he found so fascinating. It was so mysterious and expansive; it was so easy to get lost. As the train began to move, he watched the sea.

He almost fell asleep when the train made its first stop. A few extra people came into the carriage. A mother and son, a happy couple, and a few students from the local combat school. Two girls, laughing and chatting. He smiled at them when their eyes met and they smiled shyly back.

Clover hadn’t intended on listening to them, to anyone in particular, but they sat in the seats opposite him and it was easy to hear. They spoke about their homework and the weapons they were working on, the gossip among the students that seemed so important at that age.

“That reminds me! Did you get the email?” A girl asked.

“What? What was it?” The other replied.

“Professor Branwen is going on leave. They wouldn’t say why though.”

“Aw! You think he’s okay?” The girl clutched her plaited hair.

The other shrugged. “It just said it was for personal reasons. Maybe a family problem?”

“Maybe someone died.” The girl said in a hushed voice. “That’d be so sad.”

“Well… Maybe it’s totally fine, too. Maybe, like, paternity leave. Could be anything,” she sighed a little, “I hope he comes back soon.”

“Me too, he’s cute.”

The girl scoffed. “Ew! He’s our teacher!”

“So?!”

The girls went back to bickering, but Clover had fallen asleep by then.


	3. Chapter 3

Clover had been in Patch for about a month, and he was bored out of his mind.

Of course, he was still healing, but he was in that awkward spot where he knew he could at least do something. Just not much. But his mind was stagnating. He’d done all the sightseeing Patch had to offer, gone to the museums and beaches and cafes. He’d bought puzzles that left him frustrated instead of entertained, he’d read books that left him feeling more like he was studying than immersing himself. Movies and games could only drown out the boredom for so long.

He’d never liked sitting still. He could if he had to, but he never particularly wanted to. He preferred actually doing stuff, going out and accomplishing something. It gave Clover a sense of satisfaction, it put his energy to good use. Of course, he couldn’t do anything too strenuous yet, he knew that. But he had to do _something_ or else he was going to go mad.

So he looked online and in the paper for jobs. He didn’t need the money, but he needed something to focus on. It would give him a reason to get up early that wasn’t just habitual. It would get him talking to people, which Clover was craving desperately.

Sad as it sounded, he didn’t actually have many friends. Definitely none in Patch yet. Any friends from his childhood had mostly moved on from Patch or simply weren’t the same anymore. To be honest, his work had taken up most of his life for… years. It was the main reason he felt so lost now.

He spent the day looking through newspapers and on his scroll, but it seemed to be to no avail. Everything required a certain type of certificate, some type of training. Qualifications. The ones that didn’t were labour-intensive.

Eventually Clover chucked the papers to the side and got up. He needed to get out of the apartment for at least an hour. At least the grocery stores weren’t too far away.

He took the bus and watched the world fly by from the window. He listened to people chat and the sound of the outside in general. It made him smile. All the hours, days, years he’d sunk into his job suddenly didn’t feel so sad when he remembered what he was doing it for. To keep these people safe. To keep Remnant safe. Of course he’d give up a social life if it meant that the people around him could keep theirs free of danger, of Grimm and anyone willing to do worse than what the mindless monsters could do.

Even the markets here were quaint. While everything in Atlas was designed to be efficient, Patch didn’t seem to care for that in favour of charm. Outside, the streets were lined with stalls manned by people selling fruits and veggies, but along the way he saw people selling cute trinkets and clothes. Each stall was covered from the sun by old-fashioned solar-deflectors, but a good handful stuck to colourful fabrics. Clover liked looking at the different materials, shades of reds and greens and blues, patterns ranging from animal prints to geometric abstractions. The place was just more _fun_ than Atlas.

The grocery store itself wasn’t too packed today, which he appreciated. Clover didn’t really need anything save for snacks, so he found himself meandering through the aisles. Every now and then he could hear a young girl’s voice, loud and domineering, answered by who he could only assume was he father. He chuckled to himself as he heard little snippets of their conversation; the father sounded tired, irritated, while the girl leapt from happy and excited to rambunctious and angry. Then, for a while, there came only silence. Perhaps they’d left the store.

As Clover went to reach for a packet of cookies, a man appeared at the end of the aisle a few metres away from him. He had a small child with black hair and a red dress strapped to his chest, fast asleep. He was a handsome man, Clover thought as he glanced, with dark streaked hair and a pale face. Stubble, red eyes, lithe. Very handsome indeed. He looked tired though, his hair messy, but he nearly got away with it. Clover looked away before he began to stare.

But he stood there long enough for Clover to cast his eyes at the man again. The man seemed to stare pointedly… at Clover’s crotch. Clover frowned and moved his basket, feeling the need to cover himself. But when he went to speak, the man spoke over him.

“I can see you hiding.”

“No you can’t.” A little girl’s voice came from closely behind Clover. He turned to find an angry-looking blonde child stood quite close behind him, using Clover as a barrier.

A sense of relief washed over Clover. It wasn’t _him_ that man was glaring at – not his parts anyway – but the girl. Finally the girl crossed her arms and stepped out as the man approached, and he offered Clover an apologetic smile.

“Sorry, she likes to play hide-and-seek.” His voice was rough, deep. Clover liked how he sounded.

“Does she usually use people as hiding places?” He chuckled as the handsome man took the girl’s hand. They looked quite different, but Clover could only assume that man was the mischievous child’s father – as well as the father of the sleeping toddler.

“She _shouldn’t_ ,” he looked at her pointedly, “but she does.”

Clover shook his head as he watched them go, the man keeping a firm grip on the little girl’s hand. He had to smile.

“I’ve told you not to do that to random strangers, Yang.”

“Well I can’t use you to hide.” She huffed.

“I’m not a stranger.”

“You might be!” A spark of mischief lit up in her eyes then, and she tried to tug away out of the man’s grip. “STRANGER DANGER! STRANGER DANGER!”

“ _Yang_! Stop!” He picked her up and held her under his arm like a barrel, and still she yelled and thrashed. “Yang I said stop!”

Clover snickered and shook his head, until a member of staff frowned at the man. “Sir, is that child your…?”

“Piss off!” He hiked Yang higher up and left the offended employee behind.

Clover only saw them again outside the store with a security guard, who eyed the man suspiciously. Clover rolled his eyes.

“For gods’ sake, I’m a licenced huntsman!” The man objected, which caught Clover’s attention. “I’m not gonna go around stealing kids am I?!”

“I don’t know, sir. We have to be vigilant.” The guard sounded just as annoyed, his arms crossed over his chest. “What’s your relation to these two?”

“I already said, I’m their _uncle_.” He growled. “Need me to write that down for you?” He held Yang’s hand firmly, who stared at the ground, clearly upset. The little girl strapped to the huntsman’s chest was awake and looked ready to cry at the drop of a hat.

“There’s no need to be rude, _sir_.” The security guard drawled, before looking down at Yang. “Do you know this man?”

“Piss off.” She mimicked.

“YANG!” The man sounded horrified. This was only going to get worse.

Clover shook his head, before waltzing over. “ _There_ you are!”

The huntsman glanced at Clover in surprise, a flicker of recognition on his face as Clover joined his side and put a hand on his shoulder. The security guard raised an eyebrow at Clover. “Do you know this man, sir?”

“Absolutely! We work together!” He smiled, looking back at the confused huntsman and the two girls. “I thought I heard little Yang’s voice in there just a minute ago!” He smiled at the little blonde girl, who stared up at him. Despite using him as a hiding post, she clearly didn’t remember him – in all fairness, she didn’t really look at his face.

The guard looked like he didn’t get paid enough to deal with this. “Fine. Enjoy the rest of your day, _sir_.”

Once the guard was inside, the man sighed and looked over at Clover. “Thank you. You really didn’t need to…”

“Don’t worry about it.” He smiled, looking down at Yang. “You could have gotten your uncle into a lot of trouble there.”

Yang said nothing to the stranger, instead shifting her weight from foot to foot.

“He’s right,” the man squeezed her hand, “don’t go around telling people I’m a _stranger_! That guy probably thought I kidnapped you!”

“I’m _sorry_ , okay?” She looked up at her uncle with big eyes, “I thought it was a game, that’s all.”

“You’re not supposed to yell that for fun. Only when you’re actually talking to a stranger.”

Yang looked at her uncle, and then stared at Clover with a raised eyebrow.

“Don’t.” Her uncle gave her a look.

Yang grumbled. Meanwhile, the smaller girl was still watching Clover with a silent curiosity. Clover smiled warmly at her, before looking up at her uncle. “So you’re a huntsman too?” He held out a hand.

“Qrow Branwen,” he shook Clover’s hand with intrigue. “I thought I knew most the huntsmen in this area.”

“I just moved here. Clover Ebi.” He smiled once more, and for a moment he thought he saw a pinkish tint to Qrow’s complexion.

“Well… thanks again, Ebi.” He let go of Clover’s hand and turned. “I guess I’ll see you around.”

“With any luck.” He winked, and once again there was that pink flush in Qrow’s face as he quickly turned away. But not quickly enough.

Once he was gone, Clover went to leave before noticing a sign in the window of the store. A job opening. He stood there as he began to read.

_Lucky Birds Nursery_? He hadn’t thought of looking into working with kids… but it _was_ a job. He took out his scroll and put in the details of the place; maybe he’d call once he got home. Maybe he’d be lucky.

\---

_Summer’s wedding dress had been a sight to behold. It was fitted but made of possibly hundreds of tiny white feathers, fluffy and delicate. They puffed out around her hips, creating a big puff on her bottom – although Qrow was trying not to look at that. Layers upon layers of embroidered white lace swept down from her tiara, creating its own sort of cloak. Silken thread was stitched into the lace to accentuate the patterns of roses and thorns running through the fabric, falling behind Summer like a waterfall of white. She always had to have a cloak of some sort; she was shy in that sense._

_The dress was fitted, yes, but Summer had decided to forgo any corset design on her middle which she normally would have loved to include. Instead, she let the fabric naturally stretch and accommodate for the charming bump that would steadily grow and grow in the following months._

_Taiyang couldn’t have been happier when he’d gotten the news. Since Raven left… it had seemed like a spark had just gone out in the man. Like she’d taken the most important parts of Tai with her. Naturally, Qrow and Summer had stepped in to help with the baby. Summer had even moved in. It had made things harder with missions, with Tai nearly catatonic, someone always had to stay with him and Yang. Missions were not only more dangerous now, but lonely. But they had to look out for each other now._

_It had been a year already before Qrow noticed any change in Tai, in him coming back, but it was all Summer’s doing. Qrow couldn’t take any credit. Summer had brought Tai back into the light. He’d started smiling again, he’d even started joking as he usually had done. He’d always been attentive to his daughter, but now he was actively playing with her, singing to her even. All thanks to Summer and her everlasting light._

_Now, a year after that, Qrow was at the wedding of both of his closest friends. Yang toddled around in a puffy dress, the colour of candlelight, hanging onto her parents as they danced together. She was too little to properly understand what was going on, but she was happier than ever dancing with her parents._

_Summer hadn’t even hesitated at the idea of raising Yang as her own. That’s what Qrow found so brilliant about her. She was selfless and wonderful in ways she simply brushed off. Yang’s laughter resounded with the music, and the photographer snatched a picture of Tai and Summer squashing Yang’s round cheeks together as they both kissed her._

_The reception was a beautiful hotel Glynda had recommended, with ruby-red walls and a black marble carpet. There were lights of all colours, flashing and pulsing in time to the music. Qrow had made sure to keep as far away from the bride and groom during most of the dances, certain his presence alone would cause something to go wrong; a rip in the dress, someone stepping on their toes. Worst case scenario, the DJ’s equipment would combust and everyone would die. Well, his misfortune had never got that out of hand, but it was better to be safe than dead._

_Yang had insisted on dancing with her uncle after she’d had her fill of her parents. To Yang, dancing included everything from making Qrow carry her on his shoulders, gripping his hand and dragging him around the tables, and making him spin her around in circles until he inevitably bumped into someone or something. Qrow had fought monsters, outlasted horrific Grimm in battle and chases, even fought other well-trained Huntsmen and Huntresses. But he was sweating by the time little Yang got bored and decided to cling to Tai’s leg the second he sat down._

_Qrow went outside to one of the balconies when the noise and the heat and the people got a bit much. He lit a cigarette and looked out at the night sky, at the shattered moon. Sometimes Qrow wondered what happened to that moon. What the sky might have been like when it was whole. He breathed in the cold air and hot smoke and enjoyed the momentary quiet._

_“Are you smoking?”_

_Summer’s voice made him jump, and he flipped the cigarette off the side of the balcony before turning to the bride. “No.”_

_“Qrow Branwen, don’t you lie to me.” She crossed her and marched up to him._

_He blew out a puff of grey smoke from the corner of his mouth. “I’m not lying.”_

_She shook her head, but smiled. “You are unbelievable.”_

_Qrow turned away from Summer and chuckled. “Don’t worry about me. Shouldn’t you be inside enjoying yourself? It’s your wedding, after all.” He smiled. “You look… good, by the way.” She looked better than good, she looked radiant._

_“You don’t look too bad yourself.” She laughed softly. “I just wanted a few moments alone to, you know, take it all in.” She smiled._

_“Want me to leave you to it…? I can head back inside.” Qrow asked, but Summer shook her head once more._

_“Stay with me a while.” Summer replied simply, and she looked up at the moon. They stood together for a long time it seemed, just watching the dark clouds and the twinkling stars. Qrow couldn’t help but notice the way the moonlight reflected off Summer’s skin, the slivers of silver sparkling in her accessories. She stroked her belly absentmindedly, and he watched Summer smile to herself. Perhaps the little one moved. “Do you miss her?” She asked suddenly._

_Qrow blinked, turning away. “Who?”_

_“You know who.” Summer frowned softly. “Raven.”_

_“No.” Qrow said firmly. “She left us. She left her daughter. She left everyone!” He shook his head. Why did Summer have to bring her up? “I couldn’t care less if she never came back. She’s not my sister.”_

_Summer watched him quietly, before she looked back at the sky. “It’s okay. I miss her too.”_

_A dull pang of pain went through his heart. Qrow hadn’t known what to think when she’d left. Somehow, a part of him had hoped Raven would come back, if not for anyone else… than for him. They were twins, they’d stuck together. They’d gone to Beacon together, they’d become a team together. They’d been born together, barely a few minutes apart. But Qrow had been foolish to think his sister would care enough to come back. Maybe she was scared, frightened to death even, but she wasn’t the only one. Of course she wasn’t. They’d all been there for each other, but she still left in the blink of an eye. Left not only her younger brother, but also her husband, her baby._

_“I don’t want to think of her right now.” Qrow finally said, turning to Summer. “It’s your big day. We should be celebrating, not moping.”_

_She looked a little hurt for a moment – Qrow couldn’t tell if it was because of him or Raven – but she understood and lightened the tone. “Says you, World’s Greatest Moper.”_

_“I don’t mope, I sulk.” He chuckled, finally getting a laugh out of her. And then the photographer found them, holding up the camera hopefully and breaking the moment between the two._

_“We haven’t got many of the best man yet,” he smiled and gestured for them to pose. Qrow tried to back off, insist they didn’t need any of him, but Summer put a hand around his shoulders and smiled, her grip deceptively tight._

_Qrow held back a groan, and instead smiled with Summer. The lighting of the broken moon behind them flooded over their shoulders, quite a beautiful backdrop. He listened to the sound of the clicking camera, knowing deep down he’d blinked in at least one of the photos. His luck – or lack thereof – made it frustratingly hard to get good pictures of him, but Summer clearly wanted a few of him, so he smiled still and tried to not complain._

_Weeks later, when the couple were off on their honeymoon and the photos had been sorted out, Qrow had found a single one of him and Summer on that balcony. Despite his expectations, the photo had come out quite nicely. No blurring, no blinking. Just him and Summer smiling together, one of Summer’s hands lovingly over the bump that would become his future niece._

_Qrow was sure he still had that photo somewhere._


	4. Chapter 4

Catherine Arc was a sweet young woman with light blonde hair and dark blue eyes. She was exactly what Clover imagined when he thought of a nursery teacher. She sat with him and spoke through the morning about his job, and what would be required of an assistant in the nursery.

The nursery was right at the end of a long road that curved in a horseshoe shape, with a roundabout near the bottom. But it wasn’t just a nursery there. On the left of _Lucky Birds_ was a primary school – _Old Island Lower School_ – and on the right was the tiniest park Clover had ever seen. It was more like an allotment with a swing set and slide dropped into it. High white walls separated the nursery from the other surrounding areas, and the symbol of a green dove of sorts hung over the entrance, which doubled as the office. It was a very small place, with only three different classrooms that were themselves separated from each other quite firmly.

“I have to say, you’re almost a little bit over-qualified, pet.” Catherine chuckled softly, looking over the holographic tablet by her side on the desk. The office they sat in was hilariously small, with red walls covered in the children’s scribbles and a glowing bulletin board. On the desk was a pile of very simple maths sheets and memory games, next to a pile of sticker packs, all variations of smiley faces. Some were even glittery.

“Is that a bad thing?” Clover smiled.

Catherine shook her head. “No, no. It’d be assuring to have a Huntsmen as a faculty member. But I have to ask… why would a Huntsman want to work with children? They can be little monsters but they’re not exactly Grimm.”

Clover chuckled softly. “I’m just taking a break from the fighting for now.”

“Right,” she glanced at his profile again, “a Huntsman all the way from Atlas taking time to help in a nursery in Patch. I never thought I'd meet anyone all the way from Atlas!”

“It’s a lot colder than here.” He replied. He was so used to the climate of Atlas that every day felt like a heat wave in Patch. He hoped he’d get used to it.

Waiting for Monday to roll around felt like an eternity. And yet on the morning, he felt nervous. He’d never really been around children much… was this a bad idea? Too late now.

Catherine showed Clover around the rooms that made up the nursery. There was the main room, split off by a counter into two semi-rooms. Closest to the front door was called the Storytime Corner, that hosted a pile of brightly coloured bean bags dotted around a circular ladybird carpet. In fact, there were posters and toys in that area themed exclusively around bugs and plants. Paper flowers and leaves with the names of the children were all stapled to the yellow walls. Teal. Asuma. Henry. Jack. Ruby. Lily. Orchid. Aurora. The list went on. There were shelves filled with old books that caught Clover’s attention.

“Old paper books?” He ran his fingers across the spines.

Catherine nodded proudly. “They’re quite vintage. We have a lot of donations of old toys and such. A few of those books were even given to us from the Headmaster of Beacon Academy. Isn’t that amazing?”

Clover nodded. “They’re very well-travelled books.”

“More well-travelled than me.” Catherine laughed, before leading Clover over to the other side of the room.

Here, the wallpaper was a happy green colour, and there was nothing but toys. Each shelf was dedicated to a different kind of toy. One for teddies, one for plastic dolls, one of dinosaurs, one for pretend food, all organized nice and neatly. The walls were lined with big playsets, plastic stoves and ovens, a little table for toy cars. A giant dolls house that was now covered head to toe with peeling stickers. There was a craft table next to a sink with drawers of paint and pens and colourful paper. The space between the two rooms were filled with circular tables that barely reached Clover’s knees. The chairs were comically tiny, and he had to grin. He couldn’t get over how little the furniture was.

She showed him the cloak room where the children kept their coats and lunchboxes, the walls a dark brown with little trees and hedgehogs printed around the plastic hooks and wooden benches. Each child had their own hook, labelled and written by them in whatever colour they liked.

“The first little ones will be showing up soon,” Catherine said, “Me and the other teacher – Lapis, you’ll like her – will help the little ones with their things, and then when everyone is sat down I’ll introduce you to them.”

Clover nodded, and soon enough there were tiny children hanging up their coats one after the other. Although as Lapis sorted them out and sat them down, Clover noticed Catherine standing by the door with a frown. “Everything okay?” He asked her.

“Hm… We’re still missing one student.” Catherine sighed. “Little Ruby Rose hasn’t arrived yet.”

“Is she usually late…?”

“Unfortunately. She lives quite far away, so I can only assume it’s traffic. But I don’t like logging her as late… too many late logs and I have to send her guardian a letter…” She trailed off, before blinking in surprise. “Not today apparently.”

A man walked towards the door, holding a little girl’s hand. A very familiar, very handsome man. “Qrow?” He asked softly, more to himself than anyone else.

“You know him?” Catherine looked mildly surprised.

“Kind of…”

Qrow looked tired, rushed off his feet. He carried Ruby’s lunch bag as she looked around the garden on the way to the nursery. Qrow blinked at Clover when he was let into the classroom. “Ebi?”

Clover smiled as he greeted Qrow, before glancing down at Ruby. “Hello there.” But the child hid behind one of Qrow’s long legs, gripping his pants.

“Roo, it’s alright.” Her uncle assured her, though thankfully that was when little Ruby spotted Catherine behind Clover. She excitedly let go of Qrow to hug Catherine’s legs instead.

“Hello, Ruby!” She stroked Ruby’s short hair. “I haven’t seen you since Friday!” Catherine took Ruby’s lunch box from Qrow with a smile, and led her off to the cloak room momentarily.

Clover smiled softly as he watched them, before turning back to Qrow. “Where’s the little troublemaker? Yang?”

Qrow’s eyes lightened up at that. “You remember her name.” he smiled back softly. Clover thought he had quite a nice smile, “I already dropped her off at school… I didn’t peg you as a teaching type.”

“Just an assistant,” he chuckled, “beats laying around all day.”

“Believe me, you’ll wish you’d stuck to that in no time.” Qrow shook his head, glancing behind Clover as Lapis tried keeping up with the kids. “Maybe you should…”

“Right, course. I guess I’ll see you at home-time.” He winked before turning. He wished he’d gotten to see Qrow’s face but Lapis looked like she needed help.

Qrow was a total stranger to Clover, and yet he found the idea of seeing him again exciting. Perhaps it was the relief in getting to talk to another Huntsman. Perhaps it was that Clover didn’t really have many people he could call friends these days. It certainly helped that Qrow was a very good-looking man, but he tried to push that thought out of his mind as he assisted Lapis, the sound of Qrow saying goodbye to his niece vaguely alerting him.

“Now everybody, I hope you’ve all had a lovely weekend,” Catherine put her hands together, smiling at the seated children, “today I want you all to meet Clover, our new assistant.” She gestured to Clover, who smiled at the gaggle of kids.

A horned Faunas girl at the back immediately started crying.

Clover hesitated, looking to Catherine. Had he done something wrong? But Catherine chuckled. “Teal, what’s wrong, darling?”

“He’s too tall!” The girl, Teal, whined, and Lapis sat beside her on the tiny chair and wiped her.

“She cries when she likes people. Don’t worry, pet.” Catherine patted Clover’s arm, before turning back to the group. “That’s very sweet, Teal. But we don’t always need to cry when something amazing happens, like people being tall.” She wasn’t reprimanding the girl, Clover noted; Catherine’s voice remained kind and gentle.

So the rest of the morning continued as such, with Catherine helping some children learning at the tables while Clover and Lapis took the “headless chicken” rolls – running around after the children and encouraging to clean up after playing, and preventing any disputes. For some time, Clover sat at the painting table on a chair more suitable for a doll than for him; he was certain it would break under his ass at any moment. Ruby sat next to him on one side, and Teal on the other, who’d decided to follow Clover around for most of the morning. For the record, she had stopped crying by that point. Ruby’s fingers were stick with drying paint, but she looked determined to finish her picture.

“What are you drawing, Ruby?”

“Uncle Qrow-Qrow.” She said happily, taking extra effort to pronounce the “R” in his name. What was on her page was a series of black smears surrounding a frowning face with red blobs of paint for eyes. The blobs were so thick they sat high atop the surface of the paper.

“Why does he look so sad?” Clover asked.

“That’s what his face looks like.” Ruby looked up at Clover with a little smile.

“…Right.”

She nodded to herself, and took a pacifier out of her skirt pocket. She sucked on it absent-mindedly as she drew her name carefully in a corner of the drawing. Clover stopped himself from frowning. She must have been 4 at the youngest… kids didn’t still have pacifiers at that age, did they? He never remembered having one.

After Catherine put Ruby’s drawing on a metal racking shelf to dry, it was time for them to go out for a break.

“It must be hard work playing and drawing all day. This is their first break all day.” Clover had said to Lapis outside as they watched the kids. She laughed. She’d turned out to be nice like Catherine too, if not a little sterner with the kids. She was a petite Faunas woman, with her hair up in two buns and scaled skin that held a slight green shimmer. He suspected she was some sort of reptilian, but it felt incredibly rude to ask.

“Hey… why does Ruby have a dummy, still?” He asked eventually as he watched the girl hopping through a messy chalk-drawn hopscotch on the pavement.

Lapis bit her bottom lip as Catherine praised Ruby for finishing the hopscotch. She jumped on each square as well, encouraged by the children. “Well… the kid’s gone through some pretty bad stuff a while back. From what I heard from her old day-care teacher, she kinda… regressed a little. Like, to cope. She’s coming out of her shell more nowadays, but she keeps the pacifier as a comfort thing.” She crossed her arms as Clover listened intently. “Man, you should see how she got when I tried to take it off her. I’ve never seen a kid go so off the wall before. Cathy just said to let her keep it for now.”

Clover frowned, watching Ruby. She looked so happy and relaxed, but there were a few things he started to notice with that new information. The way she walked was a bit more unbalanced than the other children, babyish. It didn’t help that she was naturally small for her age. The first time Clover saw her, he thought Ruby was a toddler. Of course, it wasn’t from malnourishment or anything worrying… she was just little. Clover watched her wonder off to a far corner of the playground to watch the petals fall from a tree that loomed into the playground from the other side. “What happened…?”

Lapis hesitated. “I don’t know much, but her parents passed away. Her uncle looks after her now.”

_“Why does he look so sad?”_

_“That’s what his face looks like.”_

“Oh.” Clover swallowed.

Just then Ruby threw her pacifier over the wall of the playground, and Clover got up from where he stood. He went to call out Ruby’s name, until a black bird perched on the wall holding the pacifier in its beak. Clover and Lapis watched silently as the bird dropped the pacifier back on the ground. Ruby giggled as she picked it up, before throwing it again. The bird squawked loudly, and hopped down. A few moments passed, and to Clover’s astonishment, the bird appeared and dropped the pacifier at Ruby’s feet again. It ruffled its wings as Ruby happily reached up for the bird.

Lapis laughed. “The kid’s got an affinity for birds.” She said to Clover, and he watched the bird hop around on the top of the wall while Ruby chattered to it until the end of break.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (Warning: character death, descriptions of a dead body)

_Qrow’s hands were shaking. The room was sterile, artificially cold. And far too quiet. The walls were an eggshell blue, the floor white, and not a single window. The air felt thick in his lungs, like a fog held through the room with a delicacy that a single wrong breath could irrevocably break. But the rest of the room was blank. There was nothing to distract Qrow from the scene in front of him, the only reason he stood there to begin with._

_Two bodies, lying still on metal tables. White sheets covered them up to their necks, just about concealing the Y-shaped scars going down their bodies. It was Summer. It was Tai._

_Qrow looked over Tai’s face, tanned skin going grey and features that were just too settled, too still. But he was... Fresher. Qrow could almost pretend he was just sleeping on the surgical table._

_But the same couldn’t be said for Summer. Her face was even paler than she’d ever been in life, her skin sunken and almost sagging. Her lips had gone a sickly blue and her eyes looked bruised. She’d clearly died a while before Taiyang, but they’d been found together. He swallowed and clenched his hands into fists._

_The mortician, a kindly-looking woman, stood by him and brought him back to reality. Her hair was dark and her figure portly, a comforting sight in the room. “Is it them?” She asked softly._

_Qrow grit his teeth. There was no escaping the truth, no chance. “It’s them.”_

_The mortician nodded, wrote something on her tablet, and soon Qrow was free to leave. He nearly leapt out of the room before the air suffocated him. The smell of sanitizer and death lingered on his skin, seeped into his pores. The air had indeed been like a thick mist, but now he was outside it felt far too thin. Sharp like a river of blades running through the wind, ripping into him, through him. He felt like he was bleeding out, like his skin was burning. He couldn’t breathe enough in to fill his lungs._

_They were dead._

_They were both dead._

_What was he going to do?_

_He couldn’t go back to Ozpin, not yet. Not when his heart was being crushed by the claws of his ribs. So he flew atop to the roof of the funeral home, and he cried. He cried and he cried. He cried like he hadn’t done in years. He cried until his face was red, until his cheeks and his shirt were soaked. He cried until his voice gave out, and he was left shivering and sobbing weakly on the concrete roof, his sobs withering away to hiccups, and then nothing. But the pain remained._

_The flight back to the academy was a blur. An endless stream of clouds and cold and Summer and Tai burned into his retinas. Blue lips. Sunken skin. Still as statues. How did this happen? Who did this? Why? Why? Why?_

_He landed on the balcony leading into Ozpin’s office. The headmaster had been waiting, and his face seemed to tell Qrow that he already suspected the truth._

_“It was them... it was them.” Qrow couldn’t bring himself to say any more than that, couldn’t trust his voice, so scared of breaking open again. Ozpin guided him over to a table and chairs in the corner of the room._

_“I’m sorry, Qrow.” He sat opposite Qrow, his voice quiet. He did sound genuine, but it didn’t help._

_“They’re... All I had left.” Qrow covered his face with his hands, like he was trying to block out the terrible reality. They weren’t just his team, they weren’t even just his friends. They were family. They’d been there when he left the tribe, when Raven left, when he had nobody else. They both accepted him, cared about him even, despite his curse. Now he had no tribe, no sister, no family._

_Nobody._

_“You have the girls,” Ozpin reminded him gently, “they’re safe. They’re here.”_

_“They’re kids. How the hell could they understand what’s going on?” He grimaced. “Oh gods, I’ll have to tell them… This isn’t fair on them.” He pictured Yang’s face, Ruby’s… would Ruby even understand? Did either of them have any idea what death really was? If this was breaking him as much as it was, how would either of them handle any of this? He needed Tai and Summer, but the girls… their parents were their entire world._

_Ozpin nodded solemnly. “Well... They still have you.”_

_Qrow looked up at that. “You mean...? I can’t look after them. I can barely look after myself, Oz.”_

_“You’re all they have left in the world. And right now, I think they’re in desperate need of some familiarity.” Ozpin leaned over and put a comforting hand on Qrow’s knee, but his words sounded grave. “If you don’t take them... They’ll just be put into an orphanage. And I truly think they are considerably better off with you.”_

_Qrow shook his head. “What if I make something bad happen? What if this was me - ?”_

_“No.” Ozpin said firmly. “Slow down, Qrow. You have to think about this slowly. Take time to process it all.” He leaned back into his seat. “You know, you didn’t have to go to identify them. Glynda would have been more than willing to.”_

_“I had to. I had to know for sure.” He rested his head in his hands, trying to get the vision of them both out of his head. His brain kept flickering to the living and the dead; from Tai laughing at an awful pun to laying silently on a slab. Summer’s shining skin in the sunlight, to the colour drained from her body. Warmth and joy and beauty all stripped away, leaving those vile dead things that were shaped like his friends._

_Then, Qrow frowned a little, and he looked up at Ozpin. “You said they’re here? The girls?”_

_Ozpin nodded. “They’re with Glynda right now. I know it leaves the house empty, but I felt they’d be safer here until you came back.” He stood up then, putting a hand on Qrow’s shoulder. “Take your time, Qrow. I mean that. They need their uncle.”_

_“…can I see them?”_

_Ozpin sighed a little, but nodded. “We need to be… delicate in explaining this. They’re already very confused by all the sudden change.”_

_“How can I make them understand this? Any of this?” Qrow lifted himself off the chair, though he felt like lead. “I don’t think even I understand it properly.”_

_“Little by little. We’ll make them understand.”_

_Of course they didn’t understand. Not completely. No matter what way Qrow put it, or how often he explained it to them. No little books or leaflets or videos could decipher it. Yang seemed to be able to at least grasp what death was, but not in relation to her parents. They weren’t sick or old, she kept saying, so they shouldn’t be dead. How were they sure? Could she see them to double check?_

_Ruby just kept asking when Mommy and Daddy were coming back. She kept saying she missed them._

_Qrow missed them too._

\---

_“Mommy’s in the box?” Ruby whispered._

_“Yes. Your Daddy is in the other one.” Qrow replied, stifling a yawn. He’d been up all night, but compared to the previous nights, it wasn’t too bad. He’d only pictured his friends’ dead faces about 200 times before the sun came up._

_“Why?”_

_“Remember what I told you before?” He sat in the pews with Yang by his side and Ruby on his lap. The church was… mostly empty. Neither of them really had siblings, living relatives. None they knew of. All they’d had were each other. The priest had been saying something along those lines when Ruby asked about the weird-shaped boxes for the hundredth time since they’d entered the church._

_The church was dark, cold. It smelled of old wood and dirt. The pews were a dark wood in desperate need of a polish, but the stained glass windows were still intact, depicting different figures important to the gods of light and darkness. Creatures of Grimm driven away by beams of gold. But there was nothing to drive away the darkness today. The rain droplets outside ran down the other side of the glass, making the saints and First Hunters look as though they were weeping._

_Ruby shook her head, while Yang remained uncharacteristically quiet. He glanced down at her, worried, and put an arm around his oldest niece. She didn’t respond. Her face was scrunched up, her little hands balled into fists. If he was struggling with this, how the hell was a 5-year-old dealing with it all?_

_“We’re… laying them to rest today.” He said quietly, hoping Ruby wouldn’t ask but knowing she definitely would._

_“Are they sleeping?”_

_“No, sweetie. They’re… they passed away.” Qrow avoided her eyes._

_“What does that mean?” She tugged on his tie to get his attention._

_Like a bomb, Yang exploded, turning to them both. “It means they’re dead! They’re dead and gone and not coming back!”_

_The handful of people there jumped and looked over. The priest hesitated. Ozpin and Glynda glanced at one another worriedly. A few other teachers from Beacon. The only noise for a few solid moments was the looping piano music coming through the radios._

_Ruby frowned a little. “Not… coming back…?”_

_“Yang…” Qrow said warningly, but she jumped out of her seat, giving no notice to the grown-ups watching._

_“They’re dead! DEAD! Dead forever and ever!” There were tears streaming down her red cheeks. She understood the grief, but had no idea how to deal with it._

_“I want them to come back!” Ruby yelled back, still gripping Qrow’s tie. Qrow held her close and reached for Yang, only for her to jump away from his reach._

_“They’re not coming back!” A flicker of realisation dawned on Yang’s face as she finally said it out loud, bringing more tears. “THEY’RE NOT COMING BACK!”_

_Just as tears began to well up in Ruby’s eyes, Yang ran down the aisle and she was already gone by the time Qrow managed to stagger to his feet, still juggling Ruby in his arms. He could feel everyone’s eyes on his back as he ran but he didn’t care. He needed to stop Yang before she ran too far._

_“Yang!” He called as he finally spotted her running in the direction of the graveyard. Of course he could easily outrun her, but he didn’t need to – she tripped and fell on a stray stone, landing into a patch of grass and crumpling a few daisies with her fall._

_She cried and cried until Qrow got to her, helping Yang to her feet and checking her over to see if she’d hurt herself. But before he could ask, Ruby began wailing at a pitch that only a toddler could muster. Her rattling cries stung viciously against Qrow’s ear; he hadn’t even had the time to consider how she’d process Yang’s outburst. The declaration. He had doubted she even could at such an age. But her screams and tears were enough to answer that. And they weren’t the screams of a tantrum; Qrow knew the way she cried when she didn’t get what she wanted up against the cries of when she was in pain. And right then it sounded like agony._

_Both the girls crying in such a cacophony of misery was overwhelming. Qrow didn’t know what to do, how to ease their pain. He couldn’t just sit there and cry with them (however much he wanted to). He tried rocking Ruby with one arm as he kept his free hand firmly on Yang’s shoulder to stop her from darting off again, but the motion he made only ended in him bouncing the toddler erratically, and she cried all the more. He didn’t know how Tai or Summer could do it; he’d watched them ever since Yang was born, cuddling and playing and comforting. It was like they’d both been born to be parents, even his sister when she’d been around, but he didn’t have a clue. He couldn’t even do this now; how was he going to be of any use to them in the future?_

_“Pass her over.”_

_Qrow looked up at Ozpin’s voice. His hands were outstretched for Ruby, and his expression was calm as ever. Calm, but compassionate. Qrow had little choice but to give Ruby to him, though he had no clue what good it would do while she was in the middle of a total meltdown. As soon as his arms were free, Qrow could at least hold Yang properly, who was now simmering down to sobs._

_But Ozpin took Ruby gladly, and cradled her. He shifted her in his arms so she was nestled like a baby, and he rocked her back and forth the same way Summer might have. Gentle, soothing. Caring. He never spoke, save to hush her cries with a consoling “sshhh”._

_Qrow watched helplessly as Yang wrapped her arms around his neck, and he tried to take some comfort in the fact that he could at least offer her some solace. He watched as Ruby’s screams ebbed away to cries, and finally weak sobs and whimpers before she finally settled in Ozpin’s arms amid little sniffles._

_“Didn’t think you’d be good with kids.” Qrow croaked._

_“I am a Headmaster.” He smiled as he looked down at Ruby’s almost-sleeping face. She’d exhausted herself._

_“Yeah, to teenagers and young adults. Not toddlers.”_

_Ozpin didn’t respond. Instead he carefully sat on the ground next to Qrow, who was still too preoccupied with keeping Yang at ease. “Do you have her pacifier?”_

_“I… damn it, the bag.” The bag full of the girls’ things, toys and food and such. He’d left it on the pew._

_“No matter.” Ozpin assured, before pulling a handkerchief out from his breast pocket, and he mopped up Ruby’s wet face._

_“Sorry,” Yang’s voice was tiny now, like a candle in a dark forest, a total flip from her wildfire earlier. “I didn’t… I made Ruby cry…”_

_“You didn’t mean it, firecracker,” Qrow smoothed out her hair._

_“…They’re really not coming back though. Are they?” She looked up at both of the grown-ups. Ozpin left Qrow to answer, and he shook his head miserably._

_“I’m sorry, Yang.” He tried to keep the grief from his voice. They both needed him, he couldn’t let himself slip, not yet. “I want them to be here too. I want…” He grimaced, and simply hugged the eldest. It broke his heart to hear her whimper. But there was nothing he could do._

_Ozpin sat with the dwindling family, saying nothing. There was nothing to say. There was nothing at all._


	6. Chapter 6

That bird kept visiting the playground. Clover watched the crow over the next few weeks, hopping around the wall separating the playground from the rest of the world. Little Ruby proved fascinated with the bird, and while a few children found it funny seeing it, none of them were quite attached.

Catherine knelt down and pointed it out once or twice to the other children. “Look at the birdie, Teal! Are you going to say hi with Ruby?”

Ruby reached up at the bird, but of course the wall was far too high for her. Clover stood by Ruby, watching the creature preening its feathers. The shining sun left a gleam on the crow’s wings, each black feather shimmering with a slight blue tone. It was a very pretty creature. “You can’t give him a hug, Ruby,” he smiled down at the child, “maybe after lunch we can sprinkle some bird seed out for him though.”

The bird looked down at them both, and for the first time it hopped down. Clover put a hand on Ruby’s shoulder in surprise. Little as the bird was to Clover, it was still big compared to the kids. And it was a wild animal.

“Crow, crow, crow.” Ruby reached out for the bird, who stared pointedly at Clover. It felt… weird. It was like it was eyeing him up and down. Clover had never, to his memory, been glared at by any animal. It marched closer. Clover put one arm in front of Ruby and the other one forward to keep the crow back, despite how much Ruby clearly wanted to stroke the creature. Its beak looked a lot sharper up close.

“Easy.” Clover said quietly, his soldier voice seeping into his tone, and the crow… stopped. Clover and the crow stared at each other, both a little surprised. Then, its head tilted and it pressed its beak against the tip of Clover’s palm. It wasn’t a peck, and it wasn’t painful. Clover wasn’t sure what it was doing, but it stayed still as long as Clover did.

Then, Clover moved his hand so his palm was outstretched, his fingers firmly pressed together so the crow didn’t bite any of them. The crow rubbed its beak in the dip of his hand, lightly scratching at him. But again, it wasn’t painful. It flapped its wings, let out a low croak in the back of its throat, and rested its head against Clover’s palm. Clover could almost feel his heart reverberate against his metal breastbone. The bird was... Being gentle. Its beak was hard like calloused skin or even wood against his palm, its eyes a warming shade of red. Streaks of grey peaked out between the bluish black feathers, specks of grey that Clover hadn't noticed before. Ruby giggled behind Clover, taking her pacifier out with the sole purpose of throwing it like before.

Clover let out something between a held breath and a relieved laugh, and dared to rub under its beak. The feathers were wonderfully soft, silky and yet fluffy against the pads of Clover’s calloused fingertips. The creature let out a soft happy “brr”, before suddenly looking back at the children, at Catherine. They were watching quietly, a big smile on Catherine’s face. Lapis was filming them. The crow cawed in frustration, and flew back over the wall. Ruby whined as it left, and Clover stood up.

“I didn’t know you had such a way with little critters.” Catherine laughed softly.

“I… don't.” Clover responded, looking down when Ruby grabbed his hand.

“Crow crow.” She said sadly.

\---

Yang was always with her uncle at home-time, and she’d come bursting into the classroom to hug her little sister. Today was no different. Clover nearly tripped as he spotted a blur of flashing yellow hair dart between his knees in the rush to get to Ruby, who had spat out her dummy and had her arms outstretched for Yang. The pair hugged happily, and Ruby got giddy showing Yang the drawing she’d done that day.

“What is it?” Yang asked.

“Crow! Crow!” She bounced on her seat as she gestured to the big smear of dried black paint on the paper.

“Hang on, pipsqueak!” Qrow juggled Ruby’s lunchbag with Yang’s as Clover helped him load up with the girls’ things.

“Not Qrow!” Yang shouted back. “A crow!”

“I can see how that would get confusing.” Clover said softly to Qrow, who laughed in agreement.

“You have no clue.” Qrow shook his head, and Clover helped untuck his red cape from the bag handle strapped around his shoulder. “Easy, Ebi, I can do it myself.”

Clover smirked. “You _can_ call me by my first name – unless you’ve forgotten it by now.”

“I wouldn’t forget _your_ name.”

Oh? Did Clover detect a hint of flirting? Or was it just wishful thinking? He cocked an eyebrow and hummed in response, but before he could say anything back the girls were standing before them both, and Ruby was proudly displaying her drawing to her uncle.

“That’s wonderful, Roo.” He smiled, taking the drawing.

“It’s the bird you saw earlier, wasn’t it?” Catherine smiled. “Clover seems to share your fondness of birds, doesn’t he?”

Qrow glanced at Clover for a moment, though Clover couldn’t decipher that look in his eyes. Just as he looked back, the look was gone. Clover tried to brush it off, but he noticed the tiniest of pink flourishing over Qrow’s skin. He was really too pale to hide anything.

“Well, we best be heading home, say goodbye to Cathy and Lappy.”

Lapis grumbled at Qrow, but happily waved goodbye to Yang and Ruby.

Clover just caught the last of their conversation as they left. “What’s for dinner?” Yang asked. 

“You’re having it, whatever it is.” Qrow said firmly, but he was still smiling as he held his nieces’ hands.

“I never agreed to that!” Yang declared.

“You’re staring.” Lapis was suddenly standing next to Clover.

“I’m - ?” He was caught off-guard. “No I’m not.”

“Relax, _Ebi_.” She snorted, crossing her arms and watching Qrow walk. “I can’t blame you, it’s a nice view.” She winked.

Clover went pink.

“Lapis.” Catherine gave her a look.

“What? The kids are gone, we’re allowed to use naughty grown-up words.” Lapis rolled her eyes and began tidying up the last remaining toys and paint here and there.

Clover didn’t want to agree in front of Catherine for fear of her scalding look, but he had to agree with Lapis on this one. The view was better than nice. It was damn fine.

\---

Later, the sun was setting. Golden and orange flooded in through the windows, filling the space with a kind warmth. Clover loved the sunsets in Patch, but he had to admit he preferred the view from the mountains of Atlas. Vale sunsets were the colours of cotton candy, and gentle candles. From Atlas, Clover could see the sky going pure red some evenings, could see the deep mysterious purples overwhelming the snowy mountains and filling the sky with shimmering stars and nebulas. He sometimes wished he had someone to share the view with.

It had been a long day. Nowhere near as long or hard as any day in his previous line of work had been, but he was still healing. His back ached all up through the steel vertebrae, and he knew if he didn’t relax it soon he wouldn’t be getting a good or even adequate sleep that night.

But on his way out, Clover noticed Catherine in her office sat by the holo-top, a laptop built into her desk that displayed the screen as a single holographic layer with the keys attached to the desk itself. It was old from what Clover was used to in Atlas, but very advanced compared to most things he’d seen in Patch. Old, but definitely well cared-for.

It wasn’t the holo-top that caught his attention, though. It was the concerned look on Catherine’s face. “Everything okay?” He stood by the doorway.

She glanced up at him like she’d forgotten he was still there. She sighed. “The school across the road sent me an email.”

“Is that a bad thing…?”

“A handful of teachers have dropped out from assisting on the field trip later this week,” she hummed in mild frustration, “a few are even saying it ought to be cancelled. There’s a funeral on the same day and they’re worried what that negative energy might attract.”

“Well, if it’s that big a risk, won’t the funeral just be cancelled?”

Catherine gave Clover a funny look. “You can’t just cancel a funeral.”

“You can,” he leaned against the door frame, trying to ignore the way his back was starting to change from a dull ache to a throb, “it happens a lot in Atlas. If the risk is really that high, it’s just not allowed to happen.”

Catherine frowned. “Patch… is a lot different from Atlas, pet.”

Clover frowned back. It was just how things were done in Atlas. Efficiency over sentiment. It was how the kingdom survived. But before he could ponder anything further, Catherine continued, “aside from that, the weather reports have been warning about a storm on the way.”

“Teachers are bailing over a storm?”

Catherine chuckled. “You haven’t seen a storm until you see a Patch storm. Atlas might have snow, but we have a very temperamental ocean and winds that could sweep away a low-flying carrier ship.”

“I won’t argue with that, then.” He rubbed his lower back, trying not to grimace. “At that rate, why not just cancel the whole trip?”

“Too many parents have paid, the school has a no-refund policy… and the principal is a very non-confrontational man.” She shook her head. “I doubt anything too bad will happen on the trip anyway… but they’ll be in a very tight pinch if they can’t find any volunteers. That’s why they emailed me.” Catherine leaned back into the swivel chair. “Me and Lapis are both busy, and… well, it’s a school day. We can’t just cancel our classes to volunteer for _Old Island_.”

Clover pondered it. “Well, you could always sign me up.”

Catherine perked up at that.

“I can’t offer much help if a freak storm arrives, but I think people would feel a lot more at ease if they knew a Huntsman was on the lookout for any Grimm.”

Catherine smiled at that. “If you’re absolutely sure… there’s a few forms I’ll have to send to you to fill, but that would be splendid.”

Clover smiled, promising to fill out any forms once he got home, but his back was nearly burning by the time he reached his apartment. In the end, all he could manage was a hot bath and prescription painkillers, and laying in bed trying not to move in any way that would send a sharp wave up his back. The forms could wait.


	7. Chapter 7

“We have got to stop meeting like this.” Clover’s voice came from behind Qrow. He spun on his feet in surprise.

“I thought you were a nursery assistant,” Qrow smirked to him, gesturing up at the _Old Island Lower School_ logo outside the school gates, “or did you get bored of finger-painting?”

Clover chuckled, explaining the conversation he’d had with Catherine earlier that week.

“So you’re coming with us?” Yang asked, her lavender eyes going big.

Clover nodded happily. “Please don’t use me as a hiding accessory today, though.”

“I won’t if you don’t make it easy to hide behind.” She shot back, catching Clover by surprise.

“Yang,” Qrow gave her a warning look. He turned from Clover for a moment. “I meant what I said. No hiding, no wondering off, no ignoring the teachers - !”

“Can’t I have any fun?!” She crossed her arms, but Clover had to laugh at her stubborn expression, so firm on a face so young and round.

“Looks like I’ll have to keep an eye on you for your uncle’s sake, won’t I?” He smiled, and the look on Yang’s face was enough to let him know she didn’t like him anymore.

Qrow smiled that smile again, and Clover’s heart fluttered a little.

Alright, he’d admit it, the guy was attractive. But he was more than attractive, more than sexy. He was pretty, and that wasn’t something Clover could say about many people. He had a crooked smile, but one Clover liked, and brilliant red eyes. Everything about him seemed warming in a way, and smoky.

A stern teacher came along and, for a brief panicking moment, Qrow was certain they’d forgot the permission slip. Thankfully, it was in Yang’s bag, and once the teacher took it – without much acknowledgement to either men – Yang was allowed on the coach. Qrow crouched down to give her a hug, and she nuzzled against her uncle. Clover could see a few tiny plaits in the back of Qrow’s hair that had long been forgotten about, and he smiled.

“Have you got everything?” Qrow asked her, “your lunch? Your waterbottle?”

“Yup!” She nodded.

“Rain coat?”

“Yeah!”

“Pencil case?”

“I have everything!” She groaned and pushed her uncle away, before running on the bus and taking a window seat.

Clover saw Qrow blow Yang a kiss as he reached the steps of the coach, which Yang responded with by pressing her little nose against the glass and breathing out, creating a white steamy film that the boy behind her laughed at.

“You’re making me jealous, are you gonna blow me a kiss too?” Clover wasn’t supposed to say that out loud, but he did. A single moment of silence passed between the pair. Was that way too bold? It was definitely way too bold. Qrow looked at him in surprise and a hot flush of embarrassment welled in Clover’s cheeks. That must have been too strong. He was talking to his _niece_ , for gods’ sake. Now was not the time for flirting. Had Clover made things awkward now?

But then Qrow smirked. “Buy me a drink first, _Ebi_.”

Clover almost exhaled in relief, but instead he smirked back and climbed aboard the coach.

\---

In the 2 hours it took to drive to the largest forest in Patch, Yang had told Clover all her favourite facts about dinosaurs. Repeatedly. When she wasn’t talking about dinosaurs, she told him about Ruby, and Ruby’s favourite dinosaur. And how they’d designed a dino-dog hybrid they were going to convince their uncle to buy for them from a mad scientist.

“You come from Atlas, are there scientists up there?” She finally asked, allowing him to speak for the first time in 20 minutes.

“Oh yeah, lots of scientists.” He nodded, stifling a yawn. The seatbelt dug into his chest, pressed deep against his thighs. The seats weren’t designed for people like him. They were definitely designed for Yang-sized people and, on a good day, Catherine-sized people. “They can make all sorts of crazy things… but I’m not sure a dinosaur dog hybrid would be…” He didn’t want to tell her it was a bad idea, that’d be mean, but he wasn’t entirely sure what else to say.

“Uncle Qrow let me watch a movie where they took dinosaur blood out of a really old bug and they made dinosaurs.” She protested. “And then, and then they put the blood and stuff of other dinosaurs together and made even bigger dinosaurs. Why can’t they do it with a dog?”

“Uh…”

“If they did, my dino-dog would have a million teeth and he’d be covered in fur and have a long tail covered in spikes. But he’d be small, because Ruby’s scared of big dogs. She told me she wouldn’t be scared of a dinosaur, but I think she would be.” She’d leaned in close until her cheek rested against Clover’s arm, squinting like she was letting him in on a very important secret. “Don’t tell her I told you. She wants to be brave like Uncle Qrow.”

“Your secret’s safe with me.” He smiled. She stared at him suspiciously, before deciding to trust him and leaned away.

“Oh, and by the way,” she looked up at him again, “my dino-dog would be able to spit fire at people I don’t like.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.” He looked to the other side so she couldn’t see his smirk.

“Do you like my uncle?” Yang asked suddenly. He looked back to her in surprise. Did she mean like? Or _like_ like?

“Yeah, I think he’s… nice.” Clover responded carefully.

Yang gave a firm nod. “Good. He _is_ nice. He packed my lunch today… but he’s not a good cook.”

“That’s a shame.”

“My teacher sang a song to me once about being grateful for stuff. So I promised I’d be grateful whenever he makes me lunch or walks me to school. And he does every day – except on weekends. We don’t have school on weekends.”

“That’s good, sometimes people take good things for granted.” He leaned back into the chair. Or tried to.

Yang nodded. And she went quiet for the first time.

Then, she spoke again.

“I don’t want him to die.”

Clover blinked, glancing back at Yang. He remembered what Lapis told him, clear as day. Did they have any other family? Or was Qrow all the girls had left…?

“…I don’t think he will.” He reassured her. “Not for a very long time.”

She looked up at Clover. “What makes you think that?”

“Well he’s a Huntsman, right? Like me,” he smiled, “we have a good way of keeping ourselves alive.”

She looked him up and down. She didn’t look convinced.

Clover laughed. “Your uncle is probably very strong, so...”

“My parents were too. They fought monsters too.” She went quiet, and looked down at her feet.

Clover scratched the back of his head. He’d not been trained to deal with this sort of thing. But the look on Yang’s face broke his heart… he had to say something.

“Well…” he began cautiously, before offering Yang a smile, “my Semblance brings good luck, and I have a _lucky_ feeing about your uncle.”

Her eyes widened. “You do?”

He nodded.

She thought for a moment. “…Can you give him some?”

“Some…?”

“Good luck. He’s not very lucky, and I think it makes him sad sometimes.”

Clover hummed, before he nodded again. “I’ll do my best.”

Yang smiled once more, and a small weight lifted off Clover’s shoulders.

The rain finally lifted once they parked up and ventured into the forest. The trip was, in short, a mini hiking adventure for the children. Patch Forest held quite a rich history, some pleasant, some… not so pleasant. Each child had been given a little sheet to fill out along the way of what they’d learned. Clover liked the quaintness of that. Everything in Atlas was digital; it was seen as quite vintage to use paper for everything. He found it charming.

The forest smelled lovely, of fresh rain and greenery and mud. Clover had almost forgotten that wonderful scent. Pale gold shone through the gaps in the trees, little beams of dappled sunlight running over the group as they went through the path. Each teacher or assistant had been assigned their own groups to watch over, but they moved in one large unit, making sure to wait if one group lagged behind.

They stopped a few times for photographs, or to learn about any particular spots. There was the occasional statue or figure carved from dead trees, still kept up to date, though one or two had been allowed to regrow. One of which was an old owl made from an old oak tree. As a teacher explained that the tree had originally been cut away due to disease, Clover studied the overgrown patches as the tree had attempted to vitalize itself over the years. The feathers of the owl reached out in long spindly branches that hung down from the weight of the moss growing on the wood. Parasitic, but quite beautiful. The eyes were hollowed out to make way for a woodpeckers nest. Creepy, but still beautiful. But what Clover found most interesting were the mushrooms, big chunky “steps” of light brown sponge that grew in a lazy spiral around the statue’s round body.

But there weren’t many statues that had been left to be reclaimed by the earth. Further along, they all reached a giant Ursa carved from stone this time, in a prowling pose. It made Clover feel uneasy. Rain water gathered in the sockets of the statue’s eyes, before dripping down its canine face. Despite being soaked by the recent rainfall, its bone “armour” remained much whiter than the rest of the stone. Perhaps it was made of a different material… not real bone, right?

Birds had gathered on the statue’s back, basking in the light. A pair of robins bathing in rain water that gathered in the dip in the statue’s mouth, a lone black crow sat atop the tail end watching the school children, a few woodpeckers on the shoulders. Clover noticed Yang frowning at the beastly monument as another teacher explained what it was. The statue had been erected long ago, when the forest was ventured into more by humans. It was put near the closest village to ward off any real Grimm… but it didn’t work. Instead, it attracted real Ursa straight to the village. So, it had been moved deep into the forest as a landmark. And to remember those villagers who paid for the statue’s mistake. Well, that part they left out. But Clover had heard the story when he was younger.

Just as the teacher began taking questions from the children, her scroll went off. She went to turn it off before she frowned and saw the caller ID. She swapped out with another teacher to take the call. Clover frowned in curiosity.

A few long moments of confused silence passed once the teacher returned and whispered something to the other. And just like that, the teachers began walking their groups of children back down in the direction of the coach.

“What’s going on?” He asked one of the other assistants.

“A few Grimm sightings.” The assistant sounded worried, looking up at the trees as it started raining. The rain came suddenly, and before long the group had to stop to allow the children time to put on rain coats.

Clover helped his group as the other teachers did. Yang’s coat felt plastic, and was shaped with little black cat ears on the hood and a flailing black tail at the back. It even had pink squish beans on the sleeves. “What’s going on?” She asked as Clover helped her zip up.

The other teachers were only telling the students it was lunch time, so Clover went with that. It was the middle of the day… so at least it was still half the truth. Catherine had warned him about the slight possibility of this, and he wanted to be prepared. He could feel Kingfisher under his coat attached to his hip.

The air felt different as they walked back. The children didn’t chatter as much, nor did the adults. Clover looked through the trees, trying to catch a glimpse of something, anything that lurked or crawled or slithered.

The group seemed to collectively release a sigh as they left the forest, but Clover was still on guard. He kept to the back of the group to keep an eye on the end, and by that point it was pouring with rain. The water was icy, relentless, soaking. The teachers were quick to load the children on the coach, and that was when Clover saw it.

Burning red eyes. He counted them. At least 4. He gritted his teeth and withdrew Kingfisher, and turned to the coach. “Get the kids as far from here as possible.”

“But - !” A teacher began before they spotted it too. Eyes.

“I’m a Huntsmen! GO!” He threw off his coat and ran straight to the forest.

This would be the first fight he’d been in since surgery, but he pushed that into the back of his mind and tried to just focus on the monsters, on the adrenaline that now pulsed through him. Beowolves were huge creatures, with bodies that stood somewhere between a wolfish demon and a human. These ones were particularly larger for their breed, must be older. He charged to one which stood on its hind legs, ready to strike. But it bared its belly. Clover smirked to himself, and Kingfisher elongated into a bladed pole. He dug the hook into the beast’s abdomen and tore up. Crimson petals and ash poured from the gaping wound and the Beowolf shrieked. One jab at a good angle behind its bone mask and the first of the monsters crumbled into smoke and slivers of darkness.

Either Clover had counted wrong or he’d attracted more of the monsters. 5 sets of searing, seething crimson eyes glared at him. They growled in a hellish symphony with one another. They looked hungry.

Clover jumped back before a swiping paw could tear into his chest. The beasts weren’t going to fight one by one like the movies, they swarmed like maggots, like demons high on their bloodlust. Clover extended the hook on its wire and threw it, looping it around a monster’s neck and yanking. He grunted with the effort; his muscles strained. A pulse went up his spine and he nearly loosened his grip. But he refused. He pulled and the Beowolf was yanked forward, falling to the ground. The hook slit its throat as Clover clicked a button on his handle and drew the wire back in.

2 down, 3 to go.

Clover had enough time to spot an Alpha Beowolf toward the back. Far bigger than any of the others, and enthusiastically aggressive. Fine. 4 to go.

But just as he swung Kingfisher, the hook got caught in a tree. Clover nearly lost hold of Kingfisher and he looked back at the embedded hook.

Bad idea.

The closest Beowolf jumped forward and pinned Clover. It was one of the smaller ones, but was still much bigger than he was. His head smacked against the mud under him, cold and slick. Its paws dug into him, one pressed into his arm and the other firmly against his chest. The pressure forced him to exhale between his teeth, and the Beowolf opened its jaws. There were rows of teeth on the roof of its mouth like a sick blade saw, its breath steaming, it smelled of death and sulphur.

But a blade swiped out, one that wasn’t his own, and sliced through the Beowolf’s huge paw. The limb fell to the ground by Clover’s head and disintegrated, letting out the scent of volcanic ash and Hell itself.

The creature went back on its hind legs and screamed in pain, smoke and petals streaming from its severed stump with a lethal ooze. Gunshots went off, and the Beowolf’s head was consumed in the same smoke and ash. In moments, so too did the rest of its form.

3 to go.

Clover staggered to his feet and ripped Kingfisher from the tree and he looked around. His chest burned as he could finally breathe again.

“Are you gonna stand there or are you gonna help?!” Qrow’s voice was suddenly blasting in Clover’s ears, but he was charging at the beasts before Clover could respond.

He went after Qrow, heading toward the monster on the left as Qrow focused on the one on the right. The smell of the monster’s breath was still up his nose, the burning in his chest and the fire in his veins forced him to press on. He ran and slid between the monster’s legs, sliding along the freezing mud. The hook went out again, fixing around its leg and, when Clover yanked, it slipped. With the press of a button he sent out the harpoon on the other end, killing the Beowolf with a single shot to the head.

2 to go.

He glanced over at Qrow. The way he danced with his blade was… breath-taking. Each slash as deadly as the last. There was a raw energy to the way he moved, so alien to the stiffness of Atlas military training. Rough, but elegant.

The Beowolf opened its mouth and Qrow’s blade snapped down, revealing the barrel of a gun. Qrow shot the beast in the mouth, the bullet blasting out from the back of its head. Its body was soon gone after that.

1 left.

As Qrow was blinded by the disintegrating corpse, Clover spotted the Alpha charging. Its teeth were bared, foam flicking out from the corners of its mouth, claws sharp beyond belief.

“HEY!” Clover called out and let out his harpoon, sinking it into the beast’s shoulder and yanking forward. Strong as Clover was, it didn’t do too much but at least it distracted the monster. The Alpha grabbed the wire attaching the harpoon to Kingfisher, and it yanked Clover viciously, knocking him into Qrow.

The two crumpled together amid the rain and mud. Qrow grunted as he took Clover’s weight, arms and legs tangled together for a moment. But there was no time to think of that. Qrow shoved Clover off him and got back up, grabbing his weapon and ducking low to narrowly avoid a paw big enough to halve him in one sweep. Kingfisher was swinging uselessly as the harpoon was still jammed into the monster.

Clover scrambled to his feet and just managed to grab Kingfisher’s handle as it swung. He pulled again, but before the Alpha could throw him, Clover pressed a button and the harpoon was torn out of the dark flesh to return to the main weapon. It left a grisly trail of blood and slivers of black messy goo, and the Alpha roared in pain.

While it was focused on Clover, Qrow fired off a round of heavy bullets into the creature’s back. It kept looking back and forth at the two Huntsmen, unsure of which one to go to. They used that to their advantage, circling the monster. Qrow shot at it still, and Clover used his hook to pin the Alpha’s legs together, finally tripping it.

They both came together and pointed their weapons at its head. It roared in defiance, pure rage and hatred spitting from its horrific jaws. One harpoon to its chest, and one huge blade smashed into its head, and the creature began to disintegrate under their boots.

Qrow leaned back against a tree, watching the last embers of ash melt away into thin air. Even the smell was gone in under a minute, a life vanished from existence. If one could even call a Grimm existence a life.

“You… how did you get here?” Clover turned to Qrow. “you weren’t with the group. How did you… are you okay?”

Qrow took a deep breath. The rain still poured over them until it became deafening. Clover could see a smear of red around Qrow’s ribs, dissipated by the rain water that sunk through his shirt, making the fabric cling to his skin. “I’m fine.”

“Yeah, you look dandy.” Clover frowned and closed the distance between them both. “Let me see.”

“I said I’m fine,” Qrow growled, “it just grazed me.”

“Qrow.”

Qrow grumbled, and when Clover reached out, he batted his hand away. “Let’s just… get out of this rain. Storm’s coming.”

But when Qrow stood up to walk, he staggered. Clover caught him before he slipped, and kept a firm grip on his arm. Qrow growled again, almost warningly, as Clover made him lean on his for support. “Look, you’re injured. Let me help you.”

“I don’t…”

“You can’t walk.” He said firmly. “Not on your own. Let. Me. Help.”

Qrow looked away from Clover, but finally accepted his help. They both walked to the edge of the forest bit by bit, and the rain only got worse from there. The school had contacted the local police who waited outside the forest, two cars and an ambulance in case. Clover could still see the coach in the distance.

“Come on,” he muttered as the skies turned from a murky grey to tones just above black right before his eyes, “like you said, storm’s coming.”


	8. Chapter 8

“Come on, nice and easy…” Clover helped Qrow through the front door. On a better day, Clover would have appreciated the aesthetic of the house, but it was still pissing with rain and he had better things to focus on.

“Yeah you’ve said that a dozen times already.” Qrow growled, trying not to lean too heavily on Clover. Yang and Ruby trailed behind them, holding a spare umbrella that the school had begrudgingly given them. The grown-ups could handle the rain, Clover had reassured them.

Clover helped Qrow to the couch and shut the door on the stormy weather. It was only getting worse out there…

“It’s an absolute flood out there already.” Clover noted as he helped Yang with her coat, frowning as he looked out the window. The sky was a few shades away from black.

“I’m just glad the cabs were still doing their rounds. I was worried we’d have to walk back.” Qrow grimaced. The water from his clothes was soaking into the sofa. “Roo, come here, let’s get your coat off. Yang, wellies off. Get some towels, okay?”

“Anything I can do?” Clover watched Ruby toddle over to Qrow in her ladybug coat.

“You could take your shoes off before you walk on the carpet.” Qrow smirked, but it quickly turned into a wince as he sat up to help Ruby. “You could help Yang get some towels. Yang, I just said wellies off.”

“I can’t get them off!” She plopped down on the first step of the stairs. Clover shook his head and knelt down, helping pull her bumblebee boots off. The shoes seemed ridiculously small in his hands, like dolly shoes.

They got the towels – Yang tried to insist that she could carry more than Clover, but Clover didn’t know it had to be a competition. They helped, but Clover felt soaked through to his bones. His socks were squelchy. And both him and Qrow were caked in what was left of the mud from the forest. Qrow took noticed as he pushed himself up, hanging both the girls’ coats up (one ladybug next to one black cat). As good as Clover looked dripping wet, his clothes clinging to his form, Qrow could see him shivering. And he wasn’t a fan of the mud either. “There’s a shower upstairs, Ebi.”

“Do you mind…?” He smiled apologetically.

“Go ahead, there’s one downstairs I can use.” He gestured down the hall. “I can bring you up some spare clothes if you want.”

Clover smiled again and thanked him.

Qrow smiled back. “Seriously though, take your shoes off.”

\---

The heat of the shower felt wonderful on Clover’s back. Once the adrenaline had worn off, the pain came through. It wasn’t bad enough to immobilize him, but it still fucking hurt. He leaned against the tiled wall and tried rubbing circles into the small of his back, but it didn’t do much. But at least it was good to get the mud and cold off, and get a proper look at the bruises on his skin. The back of his head stung stubbornly, and he had a large bruise over his breastbone from falling into Qrow – well, being flung into him, rather.

A part of him wished they hadn’t been in a fight when that happened. He wished he’d had a chance to remember what Qrow felt like.

Clover chuckled, and ran his fingers through his hair as he tried pulling his mind out of the gutter. But Qrow had looked wonderful in that fight. He was a vicious fighter, impressively agile. He must have been a top student when he was training. Hell, if he’d studied at Atlas, he’d have had a spot on the Ace Ops team handed to him on a platter.

Clover could hear thunder when he got out of the shower. He opened a window to let the steam out, and as he did so a flash of sheet lightning flickered through the sky. He cursed softly to himself; it was going to be Hell trying to get home.

“Ebi?” Qrow knocked on the door. “You decent?”

“Uh…” He quickly wrapped a towel around his waist and unlocked the door. “Hey.”

Qrow blinked in surprise, and tried not to glance down. Clover was far more muscular than he had expected, toned. Even his thighs… he had failed at not glancing down. Clover wasn’t just muscular; he was well-shaped. His shoulders were broad, and Qrow could make out his enticing V-line. Qrow swallowed. “I uh… clothes.” He held out a pile of clothes to Clover. “I don’t know if they’ll fit you, but…”

“Thanks, Qrow.” Clover took the pile, before glancing up at Qrow’s damp hair, going a little curly at the ends. His clothes were new, a bit more casual than what Clover was used to seeing him in. He almost looked thinner without the red cape outlining him. He’d showered too, but obviously had taken a lot less time, and Clover felt a bit guilty. “Sorry for taking so long. Hope I haven’t used all the hot water.”

“Well if you have you’ll be paying the water bill.” He blurted.

Clover chuckled, and they both stood together in silence for some time. “…So…”

“So…?” Qrow replied.

“Is there… anything else?”

“Oh. Oh, uh, no. Sorry.” Qrow turned away quickly, but before Clover could shut the bathroom door he turned back. “Did you… did you want dinner? I’ll be putting it on soon, so…”

“Dinner? Wait, what time is it?”

“It’s about 6. Why?”

“I just… sorry if I was in the shower too long.” He smiled again, guilty. But Qrow only waved him off.

“Don’t worry about it… the storm is only going to get worse, apparently, so… I don’t mind you staying for the night.” Qrow explained, “I’ve been out in storms like this before and trust me, there won’t be a single cab or bus still running. Not this far out.”

Clover frowned. He was lucky he’d brought a blister of painkillers with him, but… “I don’t have any overnight things… I don’t want to be burden.”

“You won’t be, we have a spare room. Besides,” Qrow went a bit quiet so the girls wouldn’t hear, “it’d be nice having another adult round for once.”

Clover nodded. He was only subjected to a fraction of Yang’s dinosaur facts, and he was already certain he never wanted to talk about dinosaurs again. “Thanks. I appreciate all this.”

Qrow smiled again, and finally left Clover to get changed.

The underwear was way too tight, so he was forced to forego those – he’d noticed Qrow’s narrow hips, and couldn’t help but smile as he put the boxers to the side. The tracksuit bottoms were tight on the hips too, but much less so. The plain top was fine at the shoulders, but it clung to his torso. He worried about his back; would the fabric snag on the metal vertebrae? Would it create an outline?

He tried to push the matter out of his head as he bundled up his wet clothes. Unsure if he should bring them down, put them in the laundry basket, or what. He decided to bring them down, and found Qrow in the kitchen.

It looked black outside. Clover grimaced. “How was it so sunny a few hours ago?”

Qrow scoffed. “Welcome to Patch weather. Rain whenever you need the sunshine.”

“I grew up here, you know. But I don’t remember the storms being this bad.”

“You must have been away for a long time, then,” Qrow looked back to the chopping board, “you can put the clothes in the pile, by the way. You don’t have to hold them.”

Clover thanked him and put the pile on top of the laundry basket in the corner. He couldn’t actually put it _in_ the basket, as it was so overflowing.

“Where did you say you were from, again?” Qrow said, the sound of chopping carrots joining the white noise that became the hammering rain outside.

“Atlas. Moved there when I was young.” He smiled. “I wanted to be a part of the military.”

Qrow cocked an eyebrow. “Why?”

“Well… it seemed like the best place for me. I know Beacon was closer, but…” He shrugged. “I wanted to be more than a Huntsman.”

“Oh…? What else are you?” Qrow turned to him, tilting. “Are you… one of Jimmy’s Special Ops?”

“Jimmy’s?” Clover let out a confused laugh. “General Ironwood. And yes, I’m team leader of the Ace Operatives.”

“Eh, ‘Jimmy’s’ fine.” He went back to the carrots, leaving Clover feeling… a bit underwhelmed.

“You don’t sound surprised.”

“You disappointed I’m not fawning over you, soldier boy?” He smirked.

“N-no, it’s not that…”

“It’s absolutely that.”

“Most people find it a bit more… exciting. That’s all.” Clover leaned against the dining table, his ego just a little bit deflated. “It’s an important job.”

“Don’t worry, you don’t have to defend your title.” He turned around to properly look at Clover, leaning on the counter. “But you’re still Ebi to me.”

Somehow, Clover liked to hear that. “Do you just not like my first name? I don’t go around calling you Branwen.”

Qrow chuckled. “It’s just what I’m used to.”

“You call the General of Atlas ‘Jimmy’ while I’m stuck on a surname basis? I’m a little hurt.”

Qrow laughed for the first time. His laugh made Clover flutter, as much as he tried to hide it. “Fine, fine, maybe I’ll get round to calling you by your first name. I wouldn’t wanna hurt your feelings.”

Clover pretended to huff, and Qrow laughed again and turned back to the food. Clover wanted to hear Qrow laugh again. “Let me help.” He went by the sink and washed his hands.

“I’m chopping veggies, soldier boy. Are you sure you have enough military training to handle it?”

“Come on.” Clover shook his head and stood up, but Qrow finally did let Clover finish chopping up while Qrow went to get to work on the other bits needed for dinner. “Where are the girls?”

“Upstairs, probably making a mess.”

Clover smiled, and for a while they listened to the rain and carried on sorting out the food. It was a nice bit of quiet, but it had to be ruined by the dull ache starting in Clover’s back again. He tried to distract himself. “Why do you call him Jimmy?”

“That’s what I always call him.” Qrow answered simply.

“You know him personally?”

“It’s a… long story. I guess I’ve helped him on a few important missions.”

“Let me guess, classified?”

Qrow nodded.

Clover thought for a few moments about the General. “Is he okay with you calling him that?”

“Oh he hates it. Hates me, I think.” Qrow sniggered. “Can’t say I blame him.”

“Hey…” Clover frowned at that, but before he could say anything else he cut his finger on the knife. “Ah! Shit.”

Qrow spun around as Clover brought his finger to his mouth. He looked… guilty? Qrow pulled a small blue bag out of the medical cupboard and chucked the knife in the sink before it touched the food. “Give me your finger.”

Clover held out his hand in surprise, and watched as Qrow applied some sort of antiseptic cream. It stung, and he tried not to wince. “You don’t have to…”

“I caused it.” Qrow undid a plaster.

“What? How?”

Qrow hesitated. “I must have… bumped you or something.”

“You didn’t at all. You didn’t even touch me.”

Qrow frowned as he took Clover’s hand again, holding it still as he wrapped the plaster around the tip of Clover’s finger. Slowly. Then, he just held Clover’s hand, looking down at the plaster. What was he doing? Inspecting it? Why did he look more upset than Clover?

“Hey…” Clover said softly.

“My Semblance brings misfortune.” Qrow said suddenly, frowning. He said it like he was admitting to a crime.

Clover raised an eyebrow. “Is that right?”

Qrow looked up at Clover, a miserable expression replacing that usual cockiness. “I probably caused this. I can’t… I can’t control it. It helps in battles but… makes it hard for people to get close.”

Clover softened, and he put a hand over Qrow’s. Qrow looked confused at that.

“Well, interestingly enough, my Semblance brings good fortune. Lucky you, huh?” He winked, smiled warmly at Qrow. Anything to get rid of that awful guilt-ridden expression.

Qrow’s eyebrows raised, and he said nothing, just gazed back at Clover’s soothing teal eyes. Could a heart race _and_ stop beating at the same time? Apparently it could definitely feel like it. Clover was so close Qrow could smell him, something fresh and something lively. Like sea salt and grassy knolls. He froze when Clover moved just that little bit closer, his lips still tilted upward into that friendly smile. Their hands were still entwined.

Qrow pulled away.

Yang and Ruby hopped down the stairs and rushed into the kitchen, each carrying one of their favourite teddies. Ruby squeezed a stuffed ladybug pillow and Yang held a little black cat that was missing a button eye. “Is dinner ready yet?”

“Not yet, sweetie.” Qrow made himself very busy at the sink; he could feel the heat that flushed over his cheeks, down his neck. He could feel Clover’s eyes on him. He turned on the taps and tried to focus on washing the knife.

“Finger?” Ruby pointed at Clover’s hand.

“Oh, I was silly and cut my finger. But I’m all better now.” Clover smiled at the tiny girl. He glanced at Qrow again. He was still reeling inside. Had he come on too strong? Had he said something? They were flirting and joking just a moment ago. He turned back to the girls, not wanting to worry them. “Who’s that you’re holding?”

“This is Pouncer!” She held up the toy cat. “I won him at the funfair when I was small!”

“Oh wonderful.” He left Qrow’s side, and the girl’s followed him into the living room. Maybe… Qrow just needed some space. “Does he have any friends?”

Yang nodded and ran up the stairs. Ruby climbed on the sofa and showed Clover her toy.

“Ooh, is that a…?”

“A ladybug.” She beamed, clutching the round toy to her chest. “Mommy got her for me when I was a baby. Don’t remember, though.”

Clover entertained the girls until Qrow called them in for dinner. He tried to distract himself by listening intently to the adventures of Pouncer and all his stuffed animal friends, tried to ignore the absolute nothingness from Qrow. Had he made everything awkward?

How could he fix it?


	9. Chapter 9

It wasn’t the storm that woke Clover later that night. It was the pain.

His back throbbed and burned, and he clenched his jaw as he sat up. The fight with the Grimm must have knocked it out of him more than he’d realized. His mouth was dry and his lips were chapped. He needed to take his painkillers. He needed water.

Clover dragged himself out of the warmth of the spare bed. Standing up had been particularly challenging after his initial surgeries, and it still persisted as a problem today. He groaned as he forced his back to straighten, bit by bit. Anything else was too painful. He glanced at the clock – 3 in the morning and the rain was still hammering down, the wind still howling.

There had been a spare bedroom downstairs, with its own bathroom attached, that Qrow had let Clover use for the night. It was a fair bit away from the rest of the house, so Clover steeled himself for the journey to the kitchen. Perhaps he could take a break on the sofa once he got a drink.

He had to take his time walking, one foot after the other. Down the dark hall, occasionally illuminated by eerily silent lightning. He couldn’t tell if it really was silent or if the rain drowned out the frightful clashes of sound.

He walked from the living room, past the stairs and… he hesitated. Clover looked down on the first step of the stairs. His eyes weren’t deceiving him. There really was a little crow sleeping on the step. Its feathers were all puffed up, its sharp beak tucked into the fluffy on its chest.

Clover blinked.

Was he dreaming? How had it gotten inside the house? Why wasn’t it soaking wet from the rain? It couldn’t have been inside before the storm without anyone noticing for so long. It must have come in from the chimney. That’s the only way Clover could think of how it had gotten in.

“Uh…”

The bird didn’t respond. Its wings ruffled softly in its sleep. What should he do? He couldn’t just leave it there, peaceful as it was…

Clover stood there in the darkness for what felt like minutes, just watching the crow sleep soundly. Should he go wake Qrow up? He didn’t even know what room he slept in. He didn’t want to wake the girls either… He swallowed and gingerly knelt down by the bird. It made a soft cooing sound in its sleep, like it was talking to itself almost. It was a cute creature. But still a wild animal. Perhaps there was a box or a basket he could find for it…?

Clover blamed what he did next on being tired and in pain still. He reached his hands out, and tried to gently lift the bird off the step. Naturally, the crow woke up and squawked, before pecking Clover in the face like a bullet and absolutely breaking the skin. Any higher and it would have stabbed his eye. Clover yelped and fell back, letting go of the bird and landing straight on his ass. A scorching pain shot up his spine, and for a few long moments he was paralysed.

He didn’t know where the crow went, couldn’t see it watching him from a few feet away. He laid still on the hard wood floor, clenching his jaw and trying not to cry out. The pain made him tremble, and laying still was all he could do. As for his face, he could feel the blood dribbling from where he got pecked. It was the most bizarre reason he’d ever been immobilised before.

“Shit, Ebi?” Qrow was there then, a horrified look on his face. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, let me help you.”

“Don’t.” Clover reached out, stopping Qrow from pulling him upright. “It hurts. My back.”

“What… what can I do?”

“Just…” he took a shaky breath, “give me a minute.”

It took a lot longer than a minute before Clover could sit up, much less be brought back on his feet. He leaned heavily on Qrow, taking little steps to the sofa. He felt weak, he felt powerless. Utterly embarrassed. His damn back wasn’t just on fire, it felt like all the muscles and metal just seized. Like a horrid rigor mortis that stretched across his spine, through his hips and shoulder blades.

Qrow wiped away the blood on Clover’s face with a tissue, and thankfully by then the little jab had started to crust over, the blood starting to coagulate. “Can I get you anything?” he sat with Clover, his face fossilized into that of pure guilt. “Painkillers?”

“Water. Please.” It was the only damn reason he got out of bed. He managed to pull out his blister of pills, a much higher dosage than what you could get over the counter. “Prescription.”

Qrow flicked on the lamp by the sofa, and left Clover just long enough to bring back a bottle of water. Clover took the pills, downed the water, and tried to just sink into the sofa. But his damn back was still set in stone. He had to wait for the pills to kick in.

“What’s wrong with your back? Did you twist it?”

“Prosthetic,” Clover explained, “I’m still healing from it. Sometimes it just… seizes up. I can’t get it to relax again.”

“Shit. Uh…” He thought for a moment, before getting up and rushing to the kitchen again, much to Clover’s confusion. He came back with a bottle of some kind of gel, and sat by Clover. “Think you can handle getting your shirt off? Or at least up a little?”

Clover gave him a confused look, and Qrow held up the bottle.

“It’s a numbing thing. Works like a charm… at least let me try it.”

Clover sighed; it was worth trying. “And here I thought you just wanted to see me topless.”

“For the love of…” Qrow gave him a look, “just take your top off.”

“I uh…” He glanced away, “could you help me…?”

Qrow hesitated, but he put the bottle down. “Can you lift your arms?”

Clover gingerly lifted his arms above his head, each movement slow, rigid, a fight against the burning. He knew it was taking Qrow a lot of tolerance to wait for him, but he didn’t want to risk setting off any more pain. It was excruciating, humiliating. But Qrow was patient.

Taking off a single garment wasn’t supposed to feel so intimate, was it? But something about the way Qrow’s fingertips skidded across the hem of his shirt, just grazing his stomach before gripping the fabric, made Clover’s skin tingle. His mind told him to focus on that instead of the pain, to focus on watching Qrow lift up the fabric, his knuckled just about running against Clover’s abs. But if he did that, he worried he’d get hard, which he _really_ didn’t want to do in such tight bottoms.

And no underwear. Oh gods.

He watched Qrow’s face as his skin was exposed. He knew Clover wasn’t wearing underwear. And Clover knew that Qrow knew that Clover wasn’t wearing underwear.

He should have just stayed in bed. He could have taken the pills dry.

Damn that fucking crow.

Wait. Where _was_ that fucking crow?

“There was a bird.” Clover said suddenly, and Qrow stopped.

“A what?”

“A bird. Like a black crow. It was sitting on the stairs.”

Qrow glanced away, biting his bottom lip. “I’ll deal with that later.”

“What if it goes upstairs? Scares one of the kids?”

Qrow smiled gently. “I doubt it.”

Clover raised an eyebrow.

“Let’s just… focus on one problem at a time, okay?” Qrow managed to pull the shirt off Clover, and he chucked it on the coffee table. “How can I uh…?”

“I can move, if you need me to. I just need a bit of time to…” They both moved, awkward and painstaking, until Clover was sitting up sideways on the sofa and Qrow sat behind him. He bit his bottom lip as he waited for Qrow’s reaction. Would he find it ugly? Uncanny?

“Holy fuck.” Qrow said softly, running the very tips of his fingers down the metal vertebrae. He watched Clover. “Does this hurt?”

“No no, it’s fine.” Clover would have moved his head to glance at Qrow, but he couldn’t. “Does it…?”

“Hm?”

“Does it look…?” Clover had never once been described as bashful, and he wanted to keep it that way. But damn, was it hard to keep it up right now. “Does it look ugly?”

“What? No, not at all. It looks… kinda badass, actually.” Qrow smiled, pouring out some of the gel onto his fingers. “This is gonna be cold, okay?”

“Fingers crossed.”

Qrow sighed sympathetically, and gently pressed his fingers against the skin around the shiny prosthetic. Clover sighed and flinched at the same time. It was unexpectedly cold, yes, but it soothed the fire under his skin. In fact, the more Qrow ran his fingers over his back, the less Clover could feel at all. The relief from the pain was euphoric, but there was something else too. Qrow was tenderly massaging into Clover’s muscular flesh, pressing his fingers into Clover’s back, unwinding the knots in the surrounding muscles. It was wonderful.

Clover shut his eyes and enjoyed it; he almost felt sad that the numbing gel blocked out the feeling of Qrow touching his skin. They stayed quiet as Qrow started kneading into Clover’s back, thorough but gentle. Caring, perhaps? If they stayed like this much longer Clover was going to melt.

“I’m sorry about earlier.” Clover said then, breaking the silence at last.

Qrow stopped. “What?”

“About… whatever happened in the kitchen. I must have freaked you out, or…”

Qrow sighed. “I’m just… not used to people reacting so soundly. And… I’ve never met anyone else with a Semblance like mine. Much less the good version of it.”

Clover gingerly tested looking behind him. It didn’t hurt. But what did hurt was seeing Qrow so sad. “Don’t beat yourself up about it. I’m sure there’re plenty of ways to apply a Semblance like that.”

But Qrow just sighed and leaned back from Clover, giving him space to move. “It’s alright when I’m in a battle, but… it makes it hard on friends. On family.” He looked up towards the stairs. Clover had never seen such a despairing look before, and it yanked at his heartstrings. “Sometimes I…” he hesitated, “sometimes I wonder if I’m gonna make something bad happen to them two. Sometimes I wonder if everything bad that’s already happened… was because of me.”

“Hey.” Clover turned to him, firm but kind. “You can’t blame every bad thing on yourself. Especially something like that.” Clover sighed softly. “Lapis told me about their parents.”

Qrow leaned back into the sofa miserably. “It’s been about a year since… they were murdered.”

Murdered? He hadn’t realized. Qrow could see the surprise in his face.

“Lapis doesn’t know everything.” He scoffed. “Nobody else does.” He glanced to the window. The rain had simmered down from a downpour to more of a stubborn drizzle. He sighed. “Classified mission. As usual. Summer went out… never came back. Tai thought she might need help, went after her… never came back.”

Clover stayed silent and listened. There were photographs around the house. He’d had an idea of who they were. The dark-haired woman with the warm smile. The blond man with tanned skin. He wondered briefly who Qrow was related to. Perhaps the woman was his little sister…?

“I wanted to believe they’d come back. I wanted to. They were all I…” He grimaced, holding his arms and turning away from Clover. He looked like he just wanted to disappear. “…they were all I had.”

“...I’m sorry, Qrow.” He said quietly.

Qrow grunted, leaning back into the sofa.

“…You don’t blame yourself for that… do you?”

Qrow looked over at him. He looked so, so tired.

“Qrow…” Clover frowned gently, putting a hand on his shoulder. “You can’t possibly think your Semblance was strong enough to influence life and death like that.”

Qrow shrugged weakly. “Doesn’t matter. At the end of the day, they’re still dead.”

Clover moved closer to Qrow. “Qrow, please tell me you know you couldn’t have had any way to affect something like this. Tell me you know it wasn’t your fault.”

Qrow opened his mouth, but nothing came out. His eyes pleaded with Clover for something, but Clover couldn’t decipher it. There was pain in his features, pain and sorrow and grief. Clover lifted his hand from Qrow’s shoulder to his cheek, and Qrow sighed, shutting his eyes and allowing himself a moment to rest against the palm of Clover’s hand.

“Your misfortune can’t kill people… same way that mine can’t save anyone.” Clover said softly.

Qrow opened his eyes again, looking at Clover with a hint of confusion. He parted his lips as if to ask a silent question.

Clover wasn’t trying to make it about him, he just wanted some way to let Qrow feel welcome. He’d opened up in a way Clover doubted he’d done in forever, and Clover felt he ought to do the same. So he sighed and let his hand slip down to rest on Qrow’s neck, feeling his pulse against his palm. “I can’t control my Semblance either. I’ve failed missions before. And when I do, someone always asks ‘why didn’t you get that lucky shot?’ or ‘how were you too late to save them?’” He looked down momentarily. “I’ve gotten… better… over the years, trying to at least channel it when I can. It’s connected to my Aura, so…” He shrugged, looking back up at Qrow, “but like you, it’s not something I can just flip on and off. And it’s nowhere near powerful enough to affect the outcome of someone’s life… or death.”

Qrow placed his hand over Clover’s, stroking the back of his hand with his thumb for a moment, before he shifted close and rested his head on Clover’s shoulder. Clover put an arm around his shoulders, leaning his head against Qrow’s soft feathered hair. “It’s not your fault.” He whispered.

They stayed like that for what must have been hours. The rain stopped finally, and the first few shades of dawn turned the sky from black to a very dark blue. Birds sung outside, but Clover had forgotten entirely about the crow in the house. He had another dusty old bird to worry about.

He glanced down at Qrow’s face. He’d… fallen asleep. Clover smiled; he looked so relaxed at long last. So peaceful. So he shut his own eyes and tried to get a few hours of sleep too.


	10. Chapter 10

When Qrow woke up, a warm blanket had been draped over him. Golden sunlight shone through the opened curtains, and the sound of chatter and laughter echoed from the kitchen. He rubbed the sleep from his eyes, and as much as he wanted to sink into the sofa and sleep the day away, he peeled himself away. He glanced out the window; there was an inch of water still outside, and the flowers and bushes had been mangled. Tai used to spend so long in the garden, caring over the plants and evicting any weeds that dared to intrude. Now it looked like an overgrown swamp. Qrow grimaced, a heavy weight pulling on his heart.

A tug on his hand pulled him back to reality, and he glanced down at Ruby. She was still in her strawberry pyjamas, her hair all sorts of tangled, but she had the biggest grin. “Hey there, pipsqueak.” He smiled softly and lifted her off the ground, holding Ruby to his chest. “What’re you doing up so early?”

“Breakfast. Let’s have pancakes.” She hugged her uncle, gripping a lock of his hair. She was like a little hot water bottle.

He carried her into the kitchen, and Clover was already up, along with Yang (thankfully he’d put his shirt back on). The smell of pancakes wafted through the kitchen, welcoming and warming.

“You’re making breakfast?” He asked as Ruby squirmed out of his grip, joining Yang at the table. Clover looked back and smiled at Qrow.

“I think brunch is a better term. Seems we all had a bit of a lay-in today, hm?” He looked over at the girls as he put a plate down on the dining table. It was piled high with pancakes, golden and fluffy, and both of the girls lit up with excitement.

“Uncle Qrow, why can’t you make pancakes every morning?” Yang forked a few and mashed them up into pieces on her plate, and Ruby ate a few chunks with her favourite plastic red spoon. She hadn’t quite gotten the hang of “grown-up” cutlery just yet.

“That’d be unhealthy. Say thank you to Clover.”

The girls sang a thank-you to Clover, a rehearsed thank-you-Clo-ver in a tone that you’d expect to hear in a school assembly. And just like that, they sat down to eat together, the awkwardness of last night washed away with the rain. Qrow had had countless meals around that table with the girls, but… it had been a long time since there had been anyone to join them. It reminded Qrow of better times. Happier memories.

“Why were you two snuggled up together?” Yang asked.

“Snuggle, snuggle.” Ruby beamed.

Qrow went pink, and swallowed down a (very well-made) chunk of pancake. “We weren’t _snuggling_ …”

Clover smiled, his tan making it a lot easier to hide the pink on his cheeks. “I hurt my back during the night. Your uncle helped me fix it.” He explained simply, before being reminded. “I couldn’t find that damn bird. Must have flew up the chimney or… or something.”

“What bird?” Ruby asked excitedly. “Was it Birdie from nursery?”

Qrow went quiet. “Maybe.”

Yang frowned. “Do you think it’s okay?”

“I’m sure it’s just fine.” Qrow reassured them both, especially after seeing how worried Ruby looked. “It probably went home to look after all its baby crows.”

The idea of even smaller crows filled Ruby’s mind, and her eyes sparkled. “Tiny baby crows.”

“Teeny weeny.” Qrow smiled.

“Microscopic!” Yang shouted, making Clover jump. She pronounced each syllable carefully, very proud that she got it right the first time. “That means something is so tiny you can’t even see it without a microscope. That’s how we’re gonna get a bit of dinosaur DNA -!”

“Here we go again.” Qrow muttered.

“No, I want crows.” Ruby tugged on Yang’s sleeve, and Yang looked confused.

“But I thought we wanted a dinosaur dog!”

“Crows!”

“DINOSAUR CROWS!” Yang tried to bargain.

“CROWS!”

“Don’t yell at each other!” Qrow frowned at them, and Clover had to chuckle softly. He wondered if breakfast at this place was like this every day. Or brunch, rather. As he sat back and let the kids argue, Clover’s scroll began to buzz.

Yang shot a look at him. “You’re not supposed to have scrolls at the table!”

“Easy, firecracker.” Qrow rolled his eyes.

“Sorry, it’s my doctor.” He smiled apologetically, and left the room.

“Mommy always said you shouldn’t have your scroll at the table,” she frowned stubbornly at Qrow.

Qrow hesitated. “Well… sometimes you have to take an important call.” He tried to reason, looking back down at his plate. He wasn’t very hungry anymore. “…But you’re right, you shouldn’t have it out all the time.”

As he spoke, Ruby reached over and took a piece of syrup-covered pancake from Qrow’s plate. “Steal.” She whispered.

He stared at her. “Are you stealing from my plate, pipsqueak?”

Ruby looked up at Qrow. “No.”

“Are you lying?”

She hesitated, squeezing the pancake until the syrup oozed around her fingers. “Yeah.” She said guiltily, and went to put the pancake chunk back.

“…Keep it.” He pushed her hand away, pulling a face.

“Can we go to the park today?” Yang changed the subject while Ruby ate her stolen pancake bite.

“It might be flooded, firecracker.” Qrow leaned back in the chair, he could just about hear Clover’s voice down the hall, but it was distant. He sounded more formal, soldierly.

Yang looked downtrodden. “But there might be ducks. Could we go see them?”

“Ducky?” Ruby pulled on Qrow’s sleeve. “Go see the ducky?”

Qrow rolled his eyes. It would be muddy without a doubt, like a bog. But they could just follow the paths around, if they weren’t flooded too. And it’d get them out for a few hours… “Maybe. _If_ you help tidy up after breakfast.”

Yang groaned, but Ruby nodded along happily before she jumped out of her seat to climb on her uncle.

“Hey, you still have syrup hands!” Qrow protested, but she’d already grabbed handfuls of his shirt and was on the ascent. He grabbed a tissue and grumbled once she finally settled on his lap, and began wiping her hands.

“No, no, no.” She tried wriggling out of his grip, curling her hands into little fists, but he wasn’t having any of it.

“Yes, yes, yes. Messy hands.”

“Don’t eat with your hands next time.” Yang offered.

But Ruby decided that was far too much to ask, and she started wailing. Qrow put her down quickly and just let her wail; letting her wear herself out or get distracted was the only thing that seemed to work.

Clover came in and put his scroll in his pocket, trying not to grimace at the pitch Ruby screamed at. “What happened?”

“I committed the foul crime of washing her hands.” Qrow took another tissue and tried scraping what he could of the syrup off his shirt, but it had sunk into the fabric.

The sound of distant yowling and crying could be heard as she wondered into the living room, before it stopped suddenly. Sure enough, she’d found something interesting and completely forgot about her semi-cleaned hands. Qrow sighed.

“Who was calling?” Qrow asked. “I mean – if you don’t mind me asking.”

Clover smiled as he sat back down. “Doctors, back in Atlas. They want me to fly over for a check-up later next week.”

“Are you sick?” Yang looked up at Clover.

“No, no, I just… have a bad back. Nothing to worry about.”

“What happened?”

“Yang,” Qrow said softly.

“It’s alright,” Clover reassured him, before turning back to Yang as he tried to put it simply. “A… a bad man tried to escape when he was being taken to a big prison, and he hurt me when we were fighting.”

Yang frowned. “But… you caught him, didn’t you? He went back to prison?”

Clover hesitated, before he told her the truth. “…no. I’m afraid not.”

Yang looked at her uncle worriedly. “He’ll get caught, Yang.” Qrow tried comforting her. “Why don’t you go check on your sister?”

“What about tidying up?”

“Don’t worry, I’ll do it.”

“…Can we still go to the park?”

Qrow chuckled. “Sure thing, kiddo.”

She smiled and climbed off her chair, before running into the living room with Ruby.

Qrow shot back at Clover. “Why did you tell her that?”

Clover wasn’t expecting the harshness in his tone, and he felt a bit defensive at it. “I didn’t want to lie to her.”

“Yeah well now she’s probably worried there’s some evil criminal out there that’s gonna come after her.”

“Would you rather I lied?” Clover frowned. “Keeping the truth from either of them won’t help.”

“They’re kids, Ebi.”

“The way I see it, the world isn’t going to wait for them to grow up, Qrow.” He said softly. He didn’t want to argue. “I wasn’t trying to scare her.”

Qrow sighed, getting up. “I know… I know.” He started clearing the table, and Clover went to help. “Just… go and check on them, make sure they’re okay.”

“Qrow…”

“Ebi.”

Clover frowned, but got up and left the kitchen. Qrow sighed to himself and started scraping the plates. There wasn’t any need for that. Why did he snap like that? And Clover had been so lovely to him last night, lovelier than he deserved to be treated.

He remembered the blanket he’d woken up to. He certainly hadn’t fallen asleep with a blanket on him.

Qrow always did this. He always screwed things up.

Clover was sweet. He wasn’t just sweet, he was kind. He was witty, and confident. And gorgeous. Why was he still hanging around? Was it for the girls’ sake? It couldn’t have been for Qrow. Nobody in their right mind would hang around on his behalf.

But he remembered yesterday. The way Clover held his hand. The way he leaned close until Qrow could smell him. He wanted to kiss Clover. He wanted to let Clover kiss him. He wanted it like nothing else, he’d been wanting it for weeks.

Weeks. Had it really only been a few weeks?

Qrow dropped the plates in the sink with a loud clutter. Gods, he was a mess. He wasn’t supposed to be the romantic sop.

That had always been Tai.

No wonder he’d fallen for both girls in their team. Qrow had almost worried that he’d try moving onto _him_ if Summer ever dumped him.

He smiled sadly, but it didn’t last long. He stared down at the plates, gripping the side of the counter as he listened to the girls playing. What could he do? What advice would either of them had given him?

Summer probably would have told him to stand his ground. Tai might have told him to apologize. But would they have? They weren’t there, he couldn’t ask them.

They weren’t there anymore.

“Uncle Qrow?”

Qrow jumped at Yang’s voice. She was holding her wellies apprehensively.

“Are you okay?” She asked.

“I’m right as rain, firecracker.” He managed a smile, moving away from the sink. “Need help with your coat?”

Yang shook her head. “I can do it myself.”

“Clever.”

She smiled proudly. “Clover showed me how.” And then she left the kitchen, completely unaware of the frown on Qrow’s face.

\---

As expected, the park was swamped, but thankfully the walkways were clear enough to walk through. The air smelled of saltwater and cold. Yang and Ruby wondered ahead, searching for ducks or frogs (Ruby was very fond of the idea of finding frogs). The sun was shining, as if oblivious to last night’s storm. Everything was wet and glistening in the light, and Qrow watched Yang teach Ruby how to jump in the puddles.

Qrow and Clover lagged behind, the silence between them almost suffocating. Qrow glanced at Clover; he was frowning. He could see the way his jaw was clenched, his eyebrows uncharacteristically narrowed. Like he was deep in thought. Qrow tried not to look guilty. Tried not to _feel_ guilty.

“You alright?” He asked, snapping Clover back to reality.

Clover smiled gently. Still ever so gentle. “Yeah, just… my back. Don’t worry.”

“You sure it’s your back…?” Qrow asked apprehensively. Clover raised an eyebrow, curious, and Qrow looked down at his shoes, out at the girls. Anywhere but Clover’s face. “You sure it’s not… me?” He finally responded.

Clover tilted his head, trying to get a catch of Qrow’s gaze, but it was futile. “What do you…?”

“I snapped at you, earlier,” he crossed his arms as he began, “I…”

“Don’t worry about it.” Clover smiled again, as if that was all that needed to be said.

Qrow blinked. “You’re not angry?”

Clover shrugged. “I stand by my point, but… they’re your girls. I shouldn’t be telling you how to raise them.”

Qrow was quiet for a few moments. He honestly was expecting an argument, more pushback. He looked back at Ruby and Yang, who were arguing over whether the little green blob in front of them was a frog or a wet leaf. “Still, uh… sorry.” He still felt obliged to say, but it looked like Clover just let it roll over his shoulders. Whenever Qrow argued with Raven, she held onto it for days. She held the most vicious grudges, and sometimes it didn’t matter if he’d apologized over and over again. Raven was good at making people feel small. To that very day, Qrow still expected the worst after arguments with anyone, it didn’t matter who. It didn’t matter what over. His gut seemed to make him expect Clover to hold onto it like Raven did, hold onto it like an anchor, let it sink and drown everything else with it. But again, it seemed that with Clover, it was gone before it had began. It was a relief.

Clover simply chuckled, and bit his bottom lip. Qrow watched his every move. “If you really still feel bad about it…” He smirked, but Qrow was sure he could detect just the slightest pinch of nervousness to Clover’s words. Hesitation. “…I think I know how you could make it up to me.”

A hundred thoughts went through Qrow’s head. A hundred different ways that he could ‘make it up’ to Clover; a good few sent a tremor of excitement over him, one Qrow hadn’t felt in a long time. He tried to look away as he felt the rush of warmth rising to his cheeks, but those soothing teal eyes caught him in place. He couldn’t break away from Clover’s gaze, and to be honest he didn’t want to. “What did you have in mind, lucky charm?” He smirked.

“I was thinking… maybe we could go out for coffee some time.”

Qrow stopped short. _Just_ coffee? A little less exciting than what he was thinking… Was it possible to be enthused and disappointed at the same time? Apparently so.

Clover got nervous when Qrow didn’t respond. “You know… like a date. Something romantic.”

Qrow let go of his breath, the uncertainty in Clover’s voice bringing him back down to reality. “I’d like that.” His pale features relaxed into a smile, and it was joined by Clover’s grin. There was a delightful flutter in Qrow’s chest, a happy light waiting to sneak up over his dark horizon. “I just… there’s nobody to babysit those two…” He looked out at Ruby and Yang and frowned worriedly.

“How about… hm,” Clover thought, “we could always nip out during my lunch break. Unless you’d be okay bringing them along…?”

“No no, lunch is fine,” Qrow said quickly, “I love them, but I’d like to spend at least 10 minutes talking to someone who isn’t school age for once.”

Clover chuckled, taking Qrow’s hand in his. Qrow froze, a rabbit caught in the headlights, until the sad reality hit that he hadn’t done _anything_ romantic in… years. It just made life easier to keep people at a distance. Was he unprepared?

Clover’s hand was warm against his. Warm and reassuring. He squeezed Qrow’s hand, and Qrow squeezed back.

“It’s a date then.” Clover smiled.


	11. Chapter 11

Yang had found it in the forest. That must have meant _she_ had been close by.

She sat in the darkness of her messy room, toys strewn across the floor, stickers covering the walls around her bed. Her bumblebee nightlight made the room glow a soft gold. She clutched it to her chest so she could properly see what she’d found.

The pen knife had been caked in mud, but she could see the engraving – the carving rather – clear as day.

**_B R A N W E N_ **

Her daddy hadn’t told her much about her real mommy before he… passed away. She knew she left a very long time ago when Yang was a little baby. She knew her uncle didn’t like talking about her mommy.

She’d found a photograph once, printed out and tucked away in Uncle Qrow’s room. He was in the photo and so was her daddy, along with her other mommy… Yang wasn’t sure what to call Summer. She knew her, she loved her like she was a mommy. In fact, she’d been the best mommy in the world. She’d even given Yang a baby sister.

But the other lady in the photo… that must have been her real mommy.

Uncle Qrow had been angry that Yang found the photo. Maybe he thought he’d tucked it away really well; he hadn’t. It had been quite easy to find. She’d just needed to move his flask.

He drank from that flask a lot after Yang’s mommy and daddy were gone. Sometimes it made him really funny and happy, sometimes it had made him really, really sad. It always made him grumpy after. Yang wondered if it was secretly poison, so she’d spied on her uncle to see what he poured into it. Once he left, she’d poured the golden brown liquid down the sink. It looked pretty but it smelled so strong. He’d been angry, but not for long. He stopped carrying around a flask after that.

At least, as far as she knew.

She wondered if it was just a thing that adults did. Well, some adults. Uncle Qrow didn’t anymore, and she never remembered her mommy _or_ daddy carrying their own special flasks or bottles that made them act dumb. She didn’t think Ruby’s teacher did. But she wondered if her mommy did.

She wondered why her mommy left. Had she been really upset with her daddy, or Uncle Qrow? Or had Yang been bad when she was a baby?

“Yang Xiao Long.” Her uncle’s voice came from the doorway and she jumped, dropping her night light and holding the pen knife behind her. He frowned and raised an eyebrow. “I thought you went to bed an hour ago.”

“I couldn’t sleep.” She said quickly, diving awkwardly under her blankets as she tried to angle her hands so he couldn’t see. “I’m tired now though. Nighty night.”

Qrow stared pointedly at her, and sat by her bed. He crossed his legs and watched the little bump under the covers. “What are you hiding?” He drawled.

“Nothing.” She lied.

“Are you lying?”

“I’m not hiding anything!” She insisted. Qrow rolled his eyes and pulled back the covers suddenly, lifting up his squirming niece. She kept her hands clasped around the pen knife so he couldn’t see, but he held her small wrists so she couldn’t move her arms away. “It’s none of your business, anyway! It’s top secret!”

“Oh, really?” He gave her a wry smile and suddenly he began to tickle her, fingers running up her sides and flicking under her armpits until she was yowling with laughter. She tried her best, but Qrow had the totally unfair advantage of being able to blow raspberries on her belly, and Yang was defeated.

He froze when he saw the pen knife drop to the floor with a clutter, and the room went quiet.

Yang curled up against her pillows as she watched Qrow snatch up the pen knife, panic and anger spread across his face. “Where did you get this, Yang?! How long have you had this?!”

“I think it was my mommy’s!” She protested, sitting back up. Her golden locks flopped in front of her face with the energy in her movements. She hadn’t wanted to make him mad. Qrow opened his mouth but shut it again, and looked down at the engraving. She watched him timidly, searched his face as he ran his thumb over each carved letter; he frowned deeply.

“Where did you find this, Yang?” He asked again, quiet this time.

“I found it in the forest, on the field trip.” She admitted, gripping locks of her hair for comfort.

“And nobody noticed you picking this up?”

She shook her head, and Qrow sighed. He put the knife in his pocket and Yang panicked, moving to jump off the bed. “Give it back!”

“Yang, sit with me for a minute.” He sat on her bed again, patting the space next to him.

She hesitated, but scooted closer and settled by her uncle. “I wasn’t gonna use it to hurt anyone, I promise. I wasn’t gonna bring it to school.” She explained. “I didn’t even tell Ruby I got it. I just…”

“…you thought it might bring you closer to your mom.” He finished.

She nodded. “It still might. I still might be able to find her. If they were in the forest, so close to home…”

“Yang…” Qrow started, before sighing and putting an arm around her. She leaned her head on his chest, listening to both his voice and his heartbeat. He smelled comforting to her, of cigarette smoke and nightly air. “Sweetie… your mom… It wasn’t your fault she left. You know that, don’t you? She didn’t leave because of anyone in particular. She left because… she thought it would keep her safe.”

“From what?”

“From Grimm, from bad people, from… a lot of different things. I’ll… be honest, Yang, I think she was selfish. Not everyone who knew her does, but I do.”

“Bad people… like the bad person who hurt Clover?” She said softly; she could hear Qrow’s heartbeat go funny at that.

“Sort of. It’s complicated.”

“That’s what daddy said.”

Qrow frowned and nodded.

“You didn’t want him to tell me about my real mommy, did you?” She frowned back at him. “I remember hearing you arguing about it. When Ruby’s mommy had been gone.”

Qrow sighed at that, and he stroked Yang’s hair. “Summer was the one that was there for you and Ruby, for all of us. Raven… well, she wasn’t. Summer loved you two with every fibre of her being… she deserves to be called your mommy more than Raven.”

“But if it wasn’t for Raven, we wouldn’t have you.” She shifted and hugged her uncle.

Qrow smiled weakly and hugged Yang back. “Yeah… and I wouldn’t have you, firecracker.”

“…if I found Raven, or if she came back one day… would she love me?”

Qrow didn’t answer for a very long time. He just stroked Yang’s hair. “She better,” he said finally, “or she’ll have no business coming back.” He pulled away from the hug and tucked Yang back into her bed, leaning over to put the bumblebee light back.

“Can I have the pen knife back?” She asked.

Qrow chuckled softly. “No, it’s a weapon so I’m keeping it. I don’t want either of you getting hurt.”

Yang grumbled, but didn’t argue. Then, she glanced over at the door to see her little sister standing there with a confused expression.

“Loud.” Ruby groaned around her pacifier.

“Ah, sorry pipsqueak. Did I wake you up?” Qrow went over and scooped Ruby up in his arms, her head bobbing on his shoulder.

“Night night, Ruby. Night night, Uncle Qrow.” Yang settled into bed, watching them, framed by the yellow light out on the hall.

“Night night for real this time?” Qrow gave her a look, and she smiled.

“For reals.”

“For realsies…” Ruby yawned, falling asleep on her uncle.

Qrow smiled and smoothed out Ruby’s thick black hair, before turning back to Yang. “Love you.”

“Love you too.” She shut her eyes and listened to Ruby mumbling until Qrow shut the bedroom door. And then, she fell asleep to the golden glow of the bumblebee light. She dreamed of what Raven might be like. Maybe she was loving, maybe she was kind.

Or maybe her uncle was right.

\---

Clover had woken up excited that morning. The Patch sky had gone back to its usual vibrant azure, the sun was warm and the cooling breeze still had that salty bite to it. He wondered if he should wear something nicer than usual – but then again, he was only getting to meet Qrow during a lunch break. He’d still have to run after the little ones for the rest of the day. And he didn’t really own anything that towed the line between fancy and… practical.

So, as he reached for practical, he wondered instead where they could go. There were one or two cafes near the school area, and obviously there was no point in travelling too far. But he wasn’t even sure Qrow liked coffee… then again, he’d agreed to coffee… maybe Clover was thinking about it too much. Either way, he found himself in a giddy mood he hadn’t felt since he’d graduated from Atlas. Back when the world was brighter, the weight lighter on his back.

When he joked about with Qrow, it felt like some of that weight was lifted. He wondered if this was what civilian life was like every day. Not as much excitement, that was for sure, but also not nearly as much stress. He’d gotten used to his life being on the line so much that it was like a dull twinge in the back of his head, resting in the gaps of his ribs. But just because he was used to it now, it didn’t mean it no longer hurt.

A bit like his back in that regard.

Clover was excited at first to see Qrow later, once he was at the nursery, but the look on Qrow’s face concerned him. He looked unusually tired. Worried, even. It made Clover worry on his behalf.

“Wrong side of the bed today, hm?” Clover joked when Catherine took Ruby to the cloakroom.

Qrow chuckled weakly, but shook his head. “Yang’s come down with something. Not sure what… maybe a tummy bug?” He shrugged sadly.

“Darn.” Clover frowned. “Do you think it’s serious?”

“No, no, thankfully. Just one of those things you have to sweat out. But… I really shouldn’t leave her for too long.” He gestured behind him, his face guilt stricken. “I… don’t think I’ll be able to make it to lunch today. I’m sorry, Ebi.”

Clover tried not to look crestfallen. He smiled through it, hoping that would cover it up. It didn’t. “These things happen, obviously Yang comes first, right?”

Qrow smiled appreciatively. “Hey, uh… if you wanted, you could come over after dinner. The girls will be in bed by then.”

And with that, Clover’s spirits were lifted. So he’d just have to wait a few more hours. “Wonderful. Give me a call.”

Qrow nodded, turned to leave, but he hesitated. “By the way… did you notice Yang acting funny on the field trip? Picking anything up, or…?”

Clover tilted his head. “She seemed… a little grumpy, I suppose. Why?”

Qrow bit his bottom lip. “I’ll tell you later. Good luck with pipsqueak.” Ruby gave her uncle a hug before he left, but Clover was left feeling a mixture of delight and confusion.

\---

The rest of the day had never felt so slow before. Clover tried to be as enthusiastic as usual for the little ones, but truth be told he’d never been so bored. The elation of getting to see Qrow had suddenly caused time to slow down, seemingly.

“Don’t look so sad, Clover!” Catherine patted him on the shoulder, a big smile plastered on her face. Clover wondered briefly if she was genuinely that happy or if she was putting on as much of a show as he was. “Turn that frown upside down!”

She led the children to the Storytime Corner, and they began to pour over the different books. That was when Lapis introduced the group to a bag she’d brought in; a few select books the local library had donated.

“Ooh, how lovely! Let’s all sit down and have a look through, shall we?”

When Catherine made them sit around the carpet during story time, she didn’t just mean the kids. She made Lapis and Clover sit with them, listening along and, on occasion, read aloud with her. Clover thought it’d be more efficient to just let him and Lapis tidy up around the nursery as she kept the children distracted, but nowadays he started to think that could have just been the Atlas in him talking.

“Let’s see what’s here… There’s _The Two Brothers_ , we like that one.” Catherine pointed out each book as she read the titles. “There’s _The Shallow Sea_ … Ruby? Do you like that one?”

Ruby had crawled along the carpet, pacifier firmly in her mouth, and picked up a yellow book with a picture of a black bird on it. Catherine smiled happily. Lapis rolled her eyes.

“What’s this one? _The Crow_? Who would like to read that one?”

“I wanna read _The Two Brothers_!” Teal called out.

“Can’t we read _The Grimm Child_?” Orchid, one of Teal’s friends, chimed in. “That one’s spooky.”

Ruby clutched the book to her chest, a dismal expression dawning on her face as she looked around the room. Clover felt sorry for the girl. “Ruby doesn’t often pick out a book,” he noted, drawing attention from the other children, “I think everyone should get a turn on what to read.”

Catherine smiled, and nodded. “That’s a very good point, Clover. Besides, it seems like a very fun story!” Ruby got up and toddled over to Catherine, happily plopping herself on the woman’s lap. “Besides, maybe it’s all about our little crow friend who keeps visiting!”

“I thought it was a raven.” Lapis said.

“No, no, ravens are bigger. And their tails look like diamonds.” She made a diamond shape with her hand and showed the children. Ruby mimicked her. Clover smiled at that. “But crows are a bit smaller, and their tails look more flat.”

“How do you know that?” One of the boys, Jack, raised his hand.

“I know lots of things.” Catherine smiled, before she opened the book. “Once upon a time, there was a lovely little princess, who…”

“I don’t want a story about princesses.” Orchid groaned. “I want a story about Grimm.”

Lapis frowned. “Don’t call out, it’s rude. Maybe we’ll have some time at the end to start reading another story that’s completely princess-free.”

Catherine continued, Ruby watching her spellbound. “…who lived in a most beautiful castle covered head to toe in the most loveliest flowers. Far from the castle, however, was an ugly decrepit ruin. One day, the princess was walking in the garden, when out of a rose bush – POP! – popped a crow!” She glanced around the room as the children began to grow more invested.

“The little beast was all tattered and torn, his wings were ripped and his beak was crooked, and he was most unhappy in the world. Clover,” she held the book out to Clover, “would you like to be the crow?”

Clover took the book and looked over at what the crow said. He was never the best at doing voices or impressions, but the children rarely seemed to mind so long as he was enthusiastic. So he cleared his throat, and put on a rough, gravelly voice, “woe is me! Woe is me! I have the worst luck in the world!”

Lapis snorted. “Oh, that can’t be the best impression you can do.”

The children snickered, and Ruby giggled around her pacifier.

“I take my acting very seriously, Lapis.” He joked, before restarting in a raspier voice, “WOE IS ME! WOE IS ME! I HAVE THE WORST LUCK IN THE WORLD!”

The children laughed, and he handed the book back to Catherine, who was grinning from ear to ear. “The kindly princess took the crow in and bandaged his wounds. She looked after the poor creature until it was well and better. Once he was well, the crow said…” She held the book out again.

“Oh, no.” Lapis breathed.

“I am not really a black crow,” Clover started, though he at least tried to tone it down when he realized how much the crow was going to be speaking, “but an enchanted Prince, who has been doomed to spend my youth in misery. If you only liked, Princess, you could save me.”

“This is a stupid story!” Orchid exclaimed suddenly. “We all know what’s going to happen, so can’t we read something we all like?!”

“Orchid.” Catherine’s tone went from light and airy to warning. Ruby hid deep in Catherine’s lap.

“The Princess is gonna save the crow, the crow will turn back into a Prince, and they’ll live happily ever after! THE END!”

“ _Orchid_ ,” Catherine cocked an eyebrow at the irritant girl, “if you don’t want to read with the rest of us, you can very well sit in a corner. But we are reading this today and that is that.”

“But nobody wants to read it! You’re only reading it for Ruby so she doesn’t cry like a baby!”

“I’ve had enough, Orchid. That’s a very mean thing to say.”

“She’s a _baby_!”

“ORCHID!” Lapid stood up then, making the entire group jump. “Quiet corner! RIGHT NOW!”

Orchid stomped off, but as soon as he back had turned, Ruby tore herself from Catherine’s arms and bolted to the other side of the room. Clover glanced at the women, and he followed Ruby as she hid behind the dollhouse.

“Ruby, sweetie.” He said softly, kneeling down. His heart broke a little when he heard the tiniest whimper.

“Go a’ay.” She whispered, pulling her little hood clumsily over her head.

“If you don’t want to join story-time anymore that’s fine, we can sit outside for a moment.”

Ruby looked up at him, her cheeks red and her eyes watery. She nodded and, reluctantly, crawled out from behind the dollhouse, putting her pacifier in the pocket of her hoodie.

Clover sat with her outside, on a bench opposite the white wall, and she cried her eyes out. He kept an arm around the tiny girl. She curled up so tightly next to him she practically disappeared. For a while, he let her cry, let her bury her face in the side of his shirt until the snot and tears made a wet patch. But soon, her crying began to subside to gentle sobs.

“I’m a baby.” She sniffled.

“No you’re not.” Clover took out a tissue from his pocket and began mopping up her face, but she pushed his hand away.

“Yeah I am.” She protested. “I’m a crybaby.”

“Sweetie…” Clover began carefully, “Has Orchid been saying that to you a lot?”

She shook her head, and Clover got a bit of relief from that. So the girl might not be a consistent bully, at the very least. “But I cry a lot and…” she held out her pacifier and grimaced. “I just keep it because it makes me happy. That’s all.”

Clover took a closer look at the dummy, to see it had a little white rose printed on the front. “You’re allowed to hold onto things you like.” He said, “it’s good to grow out of things eventually, but not everybody does it at the same time.”

Ruby looked up at him and wiped her eyes. “You don’t think I’m a crybaby?”

Clover shook his head. “I think you and your sister are a pair of very brave kids. Feisty, too.” He smiled.

“What does feisty mean?”

“It means energetic.”

“Ooh…” She looked away for a moment, before looking up at Clover. “Thank you, Clover.”

He smiled again, and that was when Catherine appeared. She came out and knelt by Ruby, who hopped out off the bench for a hug. “It’s okay, Ruby, no more tears.” Ruby held a lock of Catherine’s sandy blonde hair as the teacher whipped her face on a tissue. “Now… why don’t we all go back inside, and finish that lovely story? After, I think Orchid might want to say sorry for making you so upset.”

Ruby hesitated, looking over at Clover for reassurance. He felt a little pang of warmth the it was _him_ she was looking to in that vulnerable moment. Again, he smiled and nodded, “I’ll even keep up with the funny voice.” He promised, and at last Ruby giggled, happy again.

\---

“I don’t wanna read anymore.” Yang rubbed her eyes gloomily as she leaned against her uncle. He sat back against the pillows with her on his lap. Every time Qrow thought she might nod off, Yang groaned and held her belly. He felt so bad for the girl; he would have taken all the pain she was in if he could.

“Are you sure? You usually like this story.” He pointed to the illustrations. A beauty of a girl made to stay in a castle by a feral beast. The current page depicted the lovely maiden gazing spellbound into a glass jar that held an enchanted, but withering, rose.

But Yang just shook her head. “I’m tired.”

Qrow sighed. She had been reluctant to eat at first, but after the first few mouthfuls she seemed to have her appetite back, which wouldn’t be normal for a tummy bug. She didn’t have much of a temperature either. “How do you feel?”

“Icky.”

He smiled sadly, before putting the book by the side and climbing out of the bed. “Remember, I have Clover coming round soon, but I’ll only be downstairs. You sure you’ll be okay, firecracker?”

Yang smiled and nodded.

“You really sure? We’ll be out in the garden, so you can stay on the couch if you don’t want to be all by yourself.”

Yang shook her head firmly. “The back garden?”

Qrow nodded. “You got your walkie-talkie?”

She held it up proudly. It was from a walkie-talkie soldier set she’d gotten for her birthday, a toy set complete with plastic Dust crystals and a neon gun that, in typical fashion, didn’t work (and the store refused to return).

Qrow smiled and ruffled Yang’s hair. “Get some sleep, kiddo. Maybe you’ll feel better in the morning.”

“Night night, over.” She whispered into the walkie-talkie.

“You have to turn it on, firecracker.”

“….oh.” She flipped the button and whispered into it again.

“Sweet dreams, over.” He made sure his wasn’t on, to avoid the screeching feedback.

He shut the door and tucked the walkie-talkie into his pocket, before going to check on Ruby. Catherine and Clover had explained what had happened, so both the girls weren’t in the best spirits that day. But now, Ruby was fast asleep, clutching her ladybug toy. Like usual, she was nearly rolling out of bed, so Qrow crept in and gently pushed her back onto the mattress, tucking her blanket around her tiny form. She was so little next to him it both terrified and comforted Qrow.

He could still hear the memory of her cries from the funeral. How helpless he was to comfort her. Hell, he still remembered when Ruby was a tiny smidge of a baby, half-vanishing in a nest of blankets in her mother’s arms. So frail, so vulnerable. Qrow would have done anything to protect her, still would.

Ruby sighed in her sleep, the little noise falling out around her dummy. He kissed her lightly on the forehead and shut the door behind him.

Then, the doorbell rang. Clover.


	12. Chapter 12

The chill in the air was a welcome after the heat of the day, a relief. The sky was falling into darker shades of blue above the two Huntsmen who looked out at the garden. A garden filled with wild flowers and rose bushes, once upkept to a point but now filled with weeds. There was no time to tidy up, so ivy began to grow over the metal swing set and up the ladder to the slide. There was a comfortable breeze. Finally the temperature was low enough to warrant hot tea, and it was nice to just talk.

“You really can’t handle any weather above freezing, can you?” Qrow smirked, leaning back into the swinging bench attached to the back porch. His body curved towards Clover in a way that Clover found enticing. The way his long legs crossed over in Clover’s direction, the way he leaned back and twisted to face him properly. A show of interest? Or wishful thinking?

“Hey, I did live here once upon a time.” Clover chuckled, but he knew the truth. He’d taken to Atlas weather like a duck to water… very icy water. It was nice to breathe in the chilling air, to feel that cold expanding in his lungs. It was freeing.

“Once upon a time? How long ago was that?” Qrow sipped his tea.

“Back when I was a teenager, actually.” Clover looked down into the mug of tea, a slight smile on his face. “Atlas scouts weren’t as common back in those days… they came to the combat school I was at, noticed I was head of my class…”

“Show off.”

“Shut up,” Clover rebuked jokingly, “they asked me if I could train anywhere in Remnant, at any school, where would I want to go? So I said Atlas, and… the rest is history.”

“Why Atlas? Why not Beacon? It’s closer at least.”

Clover shrugged. “It just felt right to me. The General was someone I looked up to. And besides… when you have two Atlesian military officials staring down at you when you’re a kid, it’s…”

“Intimidating.” Qrow said softly.

“I would have said thrilling… but yes, I was also very intimidated.” He laughed a little, drinking his tea.

“It must have been hard, leaving family behind.” Qrow said, though it sounded like a question. An invitation to let Clover divulge. He figured… he might as well. It might be a long time before he got to just talk one-on-one with Qrow like this. But part of him was a little afraid to talk too much, to take up too much space in Qrow’s head. He didn’t want to control the whole conversation, put Qrow off him. But the other Huntsman looked… invested. It was endearing, in a sense, that he took such an interest in Clover.

“Well, it was only me and my mother, but it was hard leaving her behind. I always promised her I’d buy her a big house up on Atlas once I’d graduated.” He smiled warmly at the memories.

“And did you? Did she ever hold you to that?” Qrow smiled back.

“Well… well.” Clover looked away, not wanting to darken the mood. “She passed away while I was studying at Atlas.”

Qrow’s expression shifted. Softened. “I’m sorry, Ebi.”

Clover waved his hand. “It was a long time ago.”

Qrow and Clover stayed quiet for a bit after that, watching the sky going darker, darker still.

“What uh…?” Qrow began.

“Illness.” Clover responded, taking a long drink of tea. “Genetic, as it turns out. She was… the only thing that tied me here, so I figured I’d just… stay in Atlas. No father, no siblings… just me.”

Qrow nodded at little, finishing his drink quietly.

“Sorry, I hadn’t meant to…”

“No, no, it’s fine.” Qrow said quickly, not wanting to discourage him. “It’s uh… it’s nice that you’re okay with telling me.”

Clover chuckled, “well it’s not some bad secret I have to keep. It’s good to remember the people you love, keep their memories alive.”

Qrow smiled softly, making a motion with his hand. “Not too long ago, I’d have drank to that.”

“Why don’t you now..?” Clover blurted.

“I uh, I gave that up.” It was Qrow’s turn to look away. “After Summer and Tai, I uh… got a bit out of hand.” He clenched his jaw, and Clover didn’t push him. By now, the sun had firmly gone down, leaving them to listen to the crickets shifting through the grass, the wind flowing through the world around them. It was quiet… it was nice.

Clover finished his drink and put the mug to the side, and in one move, he wrapped an arm around Qrow’s shoulders. He felt Qrow tense up, and Clover almost regretted his move, but then Qrow moved closer and cuddled close to him. Clover felt warmed; he couldn’t remember the last time someone had been so affectionate to him. It wasn’t that people avoided him… he just didn’t have the time before now. Qrow’s hair was feathered, soft against Clover’s cheek. There were still one or two little plaits scattered though his locks, no doubt the girls’ work. Clover smiled to himself and thought how easy it would be to just move down and kiss the top of Qrow’s head. So, he did exactly that, tilting his head and pressing his lips against the soft fluff of greying black hair.

Qrow hummed quietly and glanced up at Clover. He looked like he’d nearly fallen asleep against him. Red eyes that were so, so warm. Like the oldest wine, the deepest blood. And a smile Clover hadn’t yet seen; a bleary-eyed, sleepy smile. Loving, if Clover looked closely. It was the sort of smile he’d like to wake up to every day.

Qrow slid a hand behind Clover’s neck, revelling a little in the shiver that was brought when he ran his fingers roughly through his fine hairs. He urged Clover to dip lower down, to meet his lips. The kiss started chastely, lazily almost. Clover’s lips were firm but soft against Qrow’s, which were chapped and even coarse. But Clover liked the feeling it brought; it was new, it was exciting. The way Qrow’s stubble brushed against Clover’s chin was a reminder to remember this moment, to feel it, but keep awake and aware. To take it all in. That was when he felt Qrow’s tongue gliding over his lips. Warm. Wet.

It was a question in a way, a written permission slip that Clover couldn’t deny, didn’t want to. He leaned down and parted his lips, letting Qrow in. The warmth turned to heat, something slick, something he could taste. Qrow parted only for long enough to sit up to get a proper kiss. Clover’s hold around his shoulders tightened, bringing him closer, and the soft groan that escaped from Qrow made Clover’s heart flutter, like a black bird now trapped in the cage of his ribs stretching out its wings, making room for itself. He’d have given it all the room in the world, in his entire body, in those moments.

Qrow’s scent was divine to Clover. It was old, like worn pages of books, or the feathers of some nightly creature. The quiet thrill of night air in Clover’s lungs coupled with the heat of fire, burning red embers. Forests up in flames. Qrow’s hand found its way on Clover’s thigh, squeezing, and a new electric heat worked its way up Clover’s leg. Gods, he wanted Qrow’s hand to move further up, for those long fingers to trail upward, or grip with an urgency he’d love to see in Qrow’s eyes. Heat.

For a moment it did, skidding up Clover’s leg. Qrow’s thumb now digging intimately into Clover’s inner thigh, and for a moment Clover thought his dreams were coming true.

But Qrow broke the kiss, needing to escape for air, to come back to reality for just a moment. Their noses knocked together as they breathed, the next minute pure silence between them. Clover watched over Qrow’s face, while Qrow kept his eyes closed. Soon, Clover had Qrow’s face cupped in his hands and he just watched him breathe. Gods, that alabaster skin was so flawless but so useless at hiding even the slightest of flusters. Qrow’s face was flushed through with the sweetest of pinks, almost threatening to travel down his neck now that it had full sway over the colour of his ears.

Qrow opened his eyes.

Clover held his breath.

“You’re a good kisser, lucky charm.” He smirked, and Clover leaned forward for another electric, though much shorter, kiss, broken up by Qrow’s soft raspy laughter that made Clover’s heart sing.

Gods be damned, Clover was one sweet smile away from falling for this guy.

That was lie. He’d fallen at the first smile.

It wasn’t just Qrow’s mouth Clover kissed after that. It was his cheeks, his jawline, his neck. He reached Qrow’s pulse and nibbled, his heart pounding so hard he worried he might need a new prosthetic. But when Qrow _moaned_ so quietly, his heart very nearly stopped altogether.

Qrow finally turned away, cemented himself back into reality. He pulled away from Clover reluctantly, licking his lips in a way that made Clover want more. But he held back, gave Qrow the space he was clearly asking for.

Qrow glanced at the walkie-talkie on the table. It had been quiet the whole time. “I should uh…” he began, trying to hide his shy smile that dared to dip into the coy, “I should check on the girls.”

He got up and went back into the house, leaving Clover fuzzy and all kinds of hot under the collar. He leaned back into the swinging bench, letting his legs stretch wide out as he tried to taste the remains of Qrow on his lips. He was almost hard. Clover laughed at himself; one kiss was really all it took to get him so worked up? Either he hadn’t been laid in the longest time, or Qrow was a master at seduction… at least, to Clover.

He watched one of the lights flicking on upstairs, filling up the window. Clover could even see the little flower print on the curtains with how the light went through it. If Yang or Ruby was asleep, why would Qrow turn on their light? Perhaps he’d caught them still up after bedtime. Clover had to smile at that. Ruby was an absolute sweet pea, but Yang did have a streak for mischief in her.

The light remained on, but then the light in the room next to it lit up.

Qrow had both of the bedroom lights on. Why?

The bathroom light switched on, and that was when Clover frowned to himself. He stood up, straightening out his shirt. Something was going on.

He came into the house as Qrow was running back down the stairs, darting into the living room. “Yang?! Ruby! This isn’t funny anymore!”

“Qrow? What’s going on?” Clover went to his side. There was panic across Qrow’s features, his eyes wide.

“They’re gone. They’re both gone!” He exclaimed.

Clover’s heart froze mid-beat. “Oh gods.”

Qrow pushed past him and ran back up the stairs, checking the rooms again. Under the beds, in the closets, everywhere. But the girls were nowhere to be found. “Damn it!”

“Qrow – hold on,” Clover held his arm, trying to reach him, but Qrow pulled his arm away.

“I have to find them! _Now_!” He ran a hand through his hair, “This is my fault, all my fault, I wasn’t watching them -!”

“ _Qrow_.” Clover gripped Qrow’s shoulders, orderly, firm. The soldier seeping back into his voice. The Ace-Ops leader seeping back into his voice. Qrow stopped. “We’re going to find them. But you’re panicking. You need to get it together and _think_.” Qrow hesitated, taking a breath, looking to Clover for guidance. He never seemed the type to look to anyone for that, so Clover felt the tiniest shock of relief that Qrow was trusting this to him. He pushed down his own fear, and he spoke again. “Where would either of them have gone? Why would they have left? You know your girls, Qrow. What are they doing?”

The two stood in silence for what felt like an eternity, but gone in an instant.

Qrow swallowed. “I never told you about Yang’s mom.”


	13. Chapter 13

Yang had been walking for hours by now.

Her sandals were the quietest shoes she owned, but they were incredibly painful now that she’d walked so long in them. There were blisters on her toes from where the material rubbed, and cuts on the backs of her ankles for the same reason. Her legs ached from walking so far, so continuous. But she couldn’t stop now. Even her shoulders hurt from pulling the red wagon behind her. She’d loaded her little sister onto it with a pile of blankets and her favourite ladybug. She didn’t want Ruby to be alone.

Yang had found the pen knife, her mommy’s knife she assumed, and she’d headed out as soon as Clover and her uncle were in the garden. She loved her uncle to the moon and back… but she wanted her mommy. She missed the one she had, and she missed her daddy. She wanted them back.

But Yang knew she couldn’t get them back. But if she found her real mommy… it might be different.

And she wanted Ruby to meet Yang’s mommy.

In Yang’s head, most forests eventually became the same one if you walk far enough. Especially on such a small island like Patch. So she’d walked all the way to the local park by the closest forest to home, and carried on there. She walked and walked, branches crunching under her feet, stones digging into her soles. The woods looked so much different in the dark than they did during the day. The ground was dark, the trees black and ever-reaching in all directions. The air was cold, icy almost, and her breath came out in short bursts of steam. She’d worn a coat, but it wasn’t enough. She was starting to feel scared, but she wanted to be brave. Brave like her parents, brave like her uncle. She wondered if Raven was brave. Uncle Qrow might not think so, but Yang knew that sometimes grown-ups could be wrong. So maybe Raven was a very brave person, who had her own reasons for running away. Maybe Yang was supposed to find her, to prove how brave _she_ was. Maybe Raven would like a brave daughter.

Finally, Yang came across a clearing. An abandoned warehouse, it seemed, its structure decaying to the point where only the metal skeleton of the building remained, along with a few scraps of rotting wood that, despite splintering away to almost nothing after days of baking in the sun, were still just about holding on. Did Raven live here with the rest of the tribe?

Yang was about ready to collapse. She heard Ruby in the wagon stirring, and sighed. Her feet couldn’t carry her any further than where she stood. She wanted to call out for Raven, and for a moment she wondered what it would be like to see her in person. To be scooped up in her arms, to be congratulated for final finding her.

That was when Yang saw them.

Big, bright red eyes. Over a dozen of them.

Grimm.

Yang’s bottom lip trembled. Her mommy wasn’t here. Nobody else was here. It was just her, Ruby, and the monsters. They walked on all fours, covered in matted black fur. Bone masks covering and creating their faces. They looked hungry. She didn’t even have the strength to scream, to cry out, to beg. She just stood there, watching back, frozen to the ground. One creature ebbed closer, the snarl deep and powerful. It was a growl that started in one monster’s throat and ended in someone else’s.

It lunged.

A blade, a long, engraved scythe, cut through the air, through the monster’s body. It wasn’t expecting any attack, barely had the time to turn before its head was swept clean off its shoulders. So vicious was the attack that the decapitated head disintegrated before it hit the ground.

The Grimm blood sizzled on Harbinger’s metal before completely evaporating into nothing. Yang fell to her knees as she stared up at the back of her uncle, his form blurring as tears welled in her eyes.

Another monster lunged, but its leg was caught amid a swirl of fishing wire, before the entire limb was torn away. One shot from Harbinger and the second monster was dead, and Clover was by Yang’s side.

Ruby was startled awake by the sound of the bullet, and she looked around. She must have thought it was a nightmare she’d woken up in. Clover didn’t have time to comfort either of them; he just scooped the girls up and rushed into a ditch riddled with interlocking tree roots, exposed after the recent storm. “Don’t move.” He placed them both down, and Yang gripped Ruby tight as she watched Clover disappear. There were confused tears in Ruby’s eyes; she was terrified. She clung to her sister.

“I’m sorry,” Yang whimpered. “I’m sorry.”

Qrow swung his scythe with a provoked fury, the strength in the swing pinning a Grimm to a tree. A final cry of hatred cackled out of its torn neck before it dissolved around the blade. As he tore the scythe from the tree in time to swipe open the belly of an oncoming Ursa, Clover kept a Beowolf off his back by hooking its neck with fishing wire, a grisly noose of sorts that strangled the beast until he had enough time to set his harpoon on the Grimm.

The harpoon stuck through its head, and once the smoke that used to be its body disappeared, two more pounced for Clover. But before he could fight them, the sound of gunfire filled the air and the creatures fell limp and lifeless. Harbinger’s barrel smoked.

“Look out!” Clover sent out his hook, which dug into a groove in the mask of the Ursa behind Qrow. The monster wailed and scratched at its own face to remove the hook, giving Qrow the chance to ram the curved blade of Harbinger up the Ursa’s chin and out its forehead. Before it could disintegrate, though, he swung his scythe and threw the corpse into a Beowolf. The Beowolf was flung back into one of the smaller Ursa, not killing either of them but at least keeping them out of the way for a few seconds.

The familiar smell of burning filled their nostrils. Sulphur and acid rain and flames. Smoke from the bodies of falling Grimm filled the woods like a haze, a gas bomb dropped from above by an unseen enemy. The woods were infested with these monsters, and the more violent the fight got, the more they would come. Clover’s heart was pounding, but it became distant, like a memory he could reach but not quite hold. He needed to keep it like that. Zone in on the battle.

Qrow, on the other hand, looked fully immersed in the entire experience. The deafening thumping of his own heart, the boiling of his own blood spurred him on. Energized him in a way that nothing else could. Something burning red filled his peripheral vision – Beowolf. Qrow bared his teeth and pinned it with Harbinger’s curved blade, mopping the floor with it and filling its guts with bullets. As two more rushed to him he spun on his feet, swinging Harbinger out before they even had a chance of getting close. But the forest was nothing if not dense, a pure sea of long spindly trees. His scythe got caught in the bark, and in the mere seconds it took for him to realize he couldn’t wrench it free one-handed, an Ursa jumped forward and swiped straight across his side. Three long ribbons of red sparked across his rib and his legs gave out from under him. He could feel the wet warmth of his own blood sticking his now-tattered shirt to his skin, the stickiness of it sunk in before the pain could cut through the adrenaline. The beast raised its paws.

“QROW!” Clover wrenched Kingfisher free from the chest of a Beowolf and lunged for the Ursa that was keen to eat Qrow alive, and he jumped on its back. Boots digging into fur and muscle that felt more like concrete than anything organic; Clover wrapped fishing wire tight around the Ursa’s neck and squeezed. There were a few moments where it stumbled back, trying in vain to claw at Clover. Clover’s jaw clenched, his biceps strained, the smell of sweat and blood joining the fog of sour smoke.

Like cheese wire through wet clay, Kingfisher’s fishing line went straight through the Ursa’s neck, slicing its head clean off.

Clover jumped down while the creature’s body was still corporeal, its head crumbling to ash under his boot, and he ran to Qrow’s side. Harbinger was wrenched from the tree, but Qrow had fallen back with the effort. His entire side was a gruesome red stain against the stark white of his shirt; it made Clover feel sick. He helped Qrow to his feet and he snapped Harbinger back into his usual straight blade. His breathing was laboured, strenuous. The flow of blood was now slowing to a dull ooze. Qrow lifted Harbinger with more effort than he wanted to let on, and shot the final creature in the distance.

With that, they were done.

“Where are they?” Qrow looked up at Clover, droplets of blood on his pale cheek and his eyes scrunched until they were almost closed.

Clover looked out and pointed to the ditch behind them. None of the Grimm had even gotten close. Yang’s head poked out, looking around, before she climbed out and helped Ruby up onto main ground.

“What were you doing?” Qrow growled, limping his way over to them, his heart still hammering to the point of palpitating. There was nerve-wracking fear eating away in his chest, a sick feeling of what could have happened, but there was also anger. “WHAT WERE YOU DOING?!”

“I…” Yang kept Ruby behind her, staring up at her uncle with huge eyes and shaking legs.

“YOU COULD HAVE DIED! ARE YOU STUPID?!” Qrow spat, clutching his side as Clover joined him.

“Qrow - ?” Clover put a hand on Qrow’s shoulder but he shrugged him off.

“WHAT’S WRONG WITH YOU?! WHAT WERE YOU THINKING?! ARE YOU _THICK_?!””

“Qrow! That’s enough!” Clover stood in front of Qrow, separating him from the girls.

“NO IT’S NOT!” Qrow was seeing red. “THEY BOTH COULD HAVE DIED TONIGHT!”

“But they didn’t.” Clover’s expression darkened, and he held his hands out in front of him. A barrier between him and Qrow.

“STAY OUT OF THIS -!” Qrow buckled, gripping his side and groaning. His entire palm was stained red from his own blood.

Clover turned back when he heard Yang sniffle. She wiped her eyes on her sleeve and finally fell to her knees. Ruby still clung to her; her own frightened cries were muffled around her dummy. “I just… wanted a mommy again.” Yang said quietly, and Clover’s heart broke.

But Qrow didn’t seem to soften at those words. It only seemed to pain him more. “She doesn’t want you.” He growled, making Clover turn back to him in shock. “She doesn’t want to be part of this family. She’d throw anyone to the Grimm if it saved herself. Even me,” he forced himself to stand up straight, “even you.”

“Qrow…” Clover began.

“No, it’s the truth. You said they ought to know the truth, right?” He gestured sarcastically with one arm, throwing Harbinger out as an extension of himself. “Well the _truth_ is she’s selfish! Selfish and spiteful, and we’re better off without her!”

Silence.

And then, with a deep frown, Clover gestured loosely. “Are you _done_ now?”

Qrow glared at him bitterly, before turning in the direction of the exit, still clutching his wound. Clover took a deep breath, tried to still the trembling in his arms. He put away Kingfisher and turned to the girls. The little red wagon behind them was all but trampled. He sighed and looked over them both, holding out his arms to them. “Come on,” he said softly, “let’s head back.”

Yang looked up at Clover, and they both climbed into his arms. He could hear her begin to cry properly, her face buried in the fabric of his jacket. He felt deflated, disappointed. Tired. He followed Qrow at a distance, letting him stew, watching him limp. He worried if anyone would find the little trail of wet red Qrow left, if it might bring any Grimm to the house. The group was radiating negative energy, and the thought of any more attacks kept his adrenaline fighting his fatigue painfully until they reached the house.

\---

“There we go, safe and sound.” Clover smiled weakly as he put a bandage on Yang’s foot. She sat on the edge of her bed, Ruby cuddled up against her big sister. She’d been glued to Yang as soon as they got back, both of them keeping as far away from their uncle as possible. Had he ever lashed out like this before? Clover didn’t think so, but…

“Well, that was an eventful night, wasn’t it?” He said, his voice barely above a whisper. “Qrow doesn’t usually get that upset, hm?”

“Not ever.” Yang shook her head vaguely. It was the first thing she’d said since they arrived home, her face still wet and puffy. She’d cried herself silly, her and Ruby, leaving long wet stains down both sides of the front of Clover’s jacket.

He stifled a yawn. “I think I should go check on him. Will you two be alright up here?”

Yang nodded, putting an arm around Ruby.

“And… mind if I take that pocket knife?”

That brought Yang back to reality a bit, and she held out the knife like it was the last thing she wanted to be near. He took it, and helped the girls get settled into Yang’s bed together, before heading downstairs. He swallowed, before making his way to the kitchen. Qrow was sat with his back to the doorway, his bloody shirt in a crumpled pile on the floor. He winced and hissed as he tried to bind himself with bandages.

“Let me help.” Clover sat opposite him, taking a roll of gauze.

“I’m fine…” Qrow began.

“Shut up.” Clover cut him off, not liking the sharpness in his own voice but really not caring at that point. “Just… shut up.”

Qrow looked over Clover’s face irritably, but relented. Clover undid the messy binding, feeling just how cold Qrow’s pale skin was. Silently, he prepared a bowl of warm water and a kitchen towel, and wiped the blood off the pale skin as gently as he could. He could see Qrow wince, could feel him tense against the towel. Clover clenched his jaw and continued. The cuts weren’t nearly as deep as they could have been, considering how close the Grimm had been to Qrow when it struck, but it was still nothing to laugh at. The long jagged lines were sure to leave scars.

He mopped up the blood until the warm water was a pale pink, and reluctantly rifled through the medical box Qrow laid out for a bottle of antiseptic fluid. “Prepare yourself,” he warned as he dabbed the top of the bottle against a handful of wadding, letting the fibres soak up the fluid. Qrow said nothing, just gripped the back of the chair and nodded.

Clover reached out and held Qrow’s other side with his free hand, feeling him arch a little at the touch. It was more to steady himself than Qrow. In one move he pressed the soaked wadding into the cuts and Qrow’s body tried to curve away instantly, a long breath sucking in between his teeth. He bit down hard on his knuckle and clenched his eyes shut, almost cried out against the sting. Clover felt for him, but kept his hand there as he reached for clean gauze. Qrow dragged in long unsteady breaths to try and cope with the horrid sting until the very moment Clover peeled back the wadding. He took to bandaging him after that, covering up the wound layer by layer until it was secure.

“Should be fine now.” Clover said, signalling to Qrow that it was over. Qrow submerged his bloodied hands into the water bowl, and Clover could see how they trembled. His did too. When Qrow withdrew his hands Clover put his in, adding to the shade of pink. It wouldn’t clean them, not really, but he couldn’t be bothered to go the sink just yet.

But Qrow silently slid his hands back into the lukewarm water, ran his thumbs over Clover’s blood-stained hands. Washing Clover’s hands in the water. There was exhaustion written deep in the lines of Qrow’s face, but now also immense guilt. Perhaps this was his attempt at an apology, or the beginning of one.

“I’m sorry.” He whispered.

“It’s not me you should be apologising to.” He hadn’t meant it to come out so harsh, and a stab of remorse ebbed at his heart on the look of hurt on Qrow’s face. “Look, Yang and Ruby…”

“I can’t lose them.” He looked up at Clover, his voice loud, honest. He squeezed Clover’s hands in the water. “I can’t… I can’t lose them.”

Clover sighed. “I know, I…”

“I can’t lose anyone else, Clover!” He exclaimed. His red eyes glistened with tears, and Clover went quiet. He pushed the bowl to the side and rubbed at the crusted blood on Qrow’s cheek, the wetness on his fingers pulling away at the red. Clover sighed again and watched Qrow nuzzle miserably against his hand, and he cupped Qrow’s cheek. Then, he laughed bitterly, barely finding the energy to curl the corners of his lips up. “First I lost my tribe, then I lost my sister. Then Summer and Tai in one go… I’m going to lose everybody and it’s going to be my fault.” He opened his eyes.

Clover faltered. “Qrow… no.”

“I will, though. Watch, soon I’m going to lose you too.” There was a break in his voice, and a bit of whatever he had used to hold back everything ruptured. He hunched forward and hid his face in his free hand, and for the first time in nearly a year, Qrow cried.

But this time, he wasn’t alone on the cold roof of a funeral home. This time he was being pulled into Clover’s warm arms, into his tight embrace, secure and reassuring. He felt Clover’s fingers run through his hair with the patience of a saint, felt the pulse on Clover’s neck where Qrow hid his face. The reminder that he _was_ here, that he _was_ alive. And that was all Qrow could ask for now as he sobbed, the pain and the loneliness and the constant unanswered questions finally came to a head.

And Clover’s arms were so tight around him, he could have stayed there forever. The muscular form that made him feel safe in a way he hadn’t done even before Summer and Tai were lost to him. But still somehow snug, nurturing. Soothing. Quietly perfect.

It could have been minutes or it could have been hours, neither of them kept track, until Qrow was out of tears. He tried his best to just breathe, holding onto Clover to ground him to the present moment. But Clover was in no rush, and he let Qrow take it as slowly as he needed to.

Qrow lifted his head finally, his face seemingly stuck in a grimace that pained his cheeks. His face felt inflamed, puffy, most definitely a deep red.

“I’m not going anywhere.” Clover wiped Qrow’s wet cheeks with his thumbs, and Qrow almost laughed.

“Please… please don’t.” Qrow shut his eyes again and just felt the tenderness in Clover’s fingers, calloused and rough from constant use. “I can’t… If I lose anyone else, I’ll… I’ll die.” But then Qrow heard the words out of his own mouth, and he shook his head. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be.” Clover tried to hush him.

“I shouldn’t be putting all this on you, you barely know me. We had _one_ fucking date.” He opened his eyes and looked away, the comfort being replaced now by embarrassment. “You must think I’m such a fucking loser.”

“I don’t. I think you’re in pain, and you’ve been in pain for a long time.” Clover said quietly, simple and honest. “I think you’ve needed this, hm?”

Gods, he’d needed this poorly. The catharsis was knocking the wind out of his sails, cooling his blood. “It’s not fair on you.” Qrow protested weakly.

But Clover shook his head and cupped Qrow’s cheeks. “I want to be here for you. Don’t worry about any of it. Maybe it _is_ fast, maybe it’s a hundred different things, but that doesn’t matter to me.”

Qrow gazed into Clover’s lovely teal eyes, so refreshing, so calming. He leaned forward and kissed Clover, sliding his arms around those broad shoulders he was getting to love so much more now. He needed _this_. He needed Clover. Clover kissed him back, still stroking Qrow’s cheeks and sighing against his lips. Clover’s hands moved to the back of Qrow’s head, holding him firm and leading the kiss, and Qrow just melted into him. He’d not had his barriers down like this in so long, part of him was crying out for danger, so fearful, so apprehensive. But there Clover still was, warming and wonderful and going against everything Qrow had expected to receive.

Clover broke the kiss, but only to nibble along Qrow’s jawline affectionately. Finally a genuine smile was brought to Qrow’s face, and he tilted his head back. But Clover moved back up to his face, kissing his tear-salty cheeks, over his nose, his eyelids. Little gestures of fondness, of care, that Qrow could only describe as healing. He still hurt, he still carried that pain and sadness and doubt, but Clover was stopping the blood flow from the wound, was giving it the chance it needed to stop and clot, to regrow.

“I’m not going anywhere.” He said again.

“…thank you.” Qrow whispered.


	14. Chapter 14

Qrow had fallen into a deep sleep that night, deeper than he’d had in a long time. He woke up to the morning light streaming in from the window in his room, and the feeling of an arm draped over him.

Clover.

Qrow was laying with his back to Clover, but he had fallen asleep curled up to the man, lulled by the sound of his heartbeat, echoing against something… hard on his chest. Another prosthetic? Qrow sat up and rubbed the sleep from his eyes, along with the last after-images of his dreams. Clover was still sleeping, and he didn’t want to wake him, not yet at least. He maneuvered his way out of bed, carefully placing the arm down, and for a minute he just sat on the bed and watched Clover sleep. He wondered what he was dreaming of, if anything. He looked peaceful… maybe it was a good dream.

He groaned in his sleep, mumbled, and settled again. Qrow smiled. He’d been kind last night, patient. And there Qrow had been, embarrassing himself by screaming at his kids. They’d been terrified… he’d been scared too, but he was the adult. Clover could keep a cool head, so why couldn’t he?

Some first fucking date that was.

The guilt cutting into his shoulders was heavy enough to make him drag his feet. He got dressed quietly as he could, glanced back at Clover, and left. The girls might be awake by now… would they even want to see him? _He_ didn’t want to see himself right then.

He stifled a yawn and did the handle, peeking into Yang’s room. Ruby was already sat straight up in bed, babbling quietly to her ladybug. Her hair was tangled and sticking out; it reminded Qrow of Summer in the mornings at Beacon. She looked over at Qrow and climbed over Yang, waking her, before attaching herself to Qrow’s leg in a hug.

“Morning, pipsqueak.” He spoke softly, peeling Ruby off his leg and picking her up, before looking over at Yang. Their eyes met for a moment before she dove under the covers, and the guilt dug into him just that little bit more. Qrow sighed and crossed the room to the bed, stepping over toys and clothes. He sat at the end and set Ruby on his lap.

“Can Clover make pancakes today?” Ruby asked, squishing her ladybug in her little arms.

“We’ll see, Roo.”

“That always means no.” She pouted, but nuzzled against him nonetheless. At least she wasn’t upset with him… anymore.

“Ying-Yang?” He put a gentle hand over the bump under the blankets. “Anyone home under there?”

Eventually, Yang shifted underneath the covers, and her sad face appeared amidst a cluster of golden curls from under the blanket. “Are you still angry?”

“No, no,” he shook his head, “I’m not angry. I wasn’t angry at you. I was… scared.”

“Scared of my mommy?”

“No… scared that something bad might have happened to you and Ruby.” He explained gently, apologetically. She emerged out from the blanket cautiously, wrapping the edges around her shoulders. “I shouldn’t have shouted at you and frightened you. I’m sorry, Yang.” He looked at Ruby, “and I’m sorry to you too, Ruby.”

Yang frowned, looking down sadly. She was holding something, paper, rolled up. Qrow tilted his head, but before he could ask, Yang held it out to him. He took the paper and unrolled it. It was an old photo; Summer in her wedding dress, a hand over her precious tummy bump, and Qrow standing with her. The shattered moon behind them. His heart swelled at the memories. He hadn’t looked at that in years… they both looked so young. He could still hear the music from the reception, feel the cold air of that night. The breath of cigarette smoke he tried to hide from Summer still kept in his lungs. “Where did you find this…?”

Yang hesitated. “I found it in one of daddy’s boxes. In the spare room. I wanted to bring it with me in case my mommy forgot who you were.”

Qrow looked down at Yang and smiled a little.

“I was gonna put it back, I promise!” She began. “I was gonna tell my mommy to come home so -!”

Qrow wrapped his arm around Yang, bringing her into a hug. She stopped talking.

“You two are the most precious things in the world to me, okay?” He said quietly. “I’m sorry I scared you both. I’d be beside myself if anything happened to you – to either of you.”

Yang sniffled, and wrapped her arms around her uncle’s neck. “I just… I miss mommy. Summer-mommy.” She said quietly.

“I know… me too.” He admitted, stroking Yang’s hair.

Ruby rested her head on Qrow’s chest, watching the photo in his hand. She pointed to Summer’s belly. “Me…?”

“Yup,” he smiled and shifted so they could look properly, “that was you, Roo. When you were teeny tiny.”

“I remember when you were little,” Yang settled on Qrow’s lap with her little sister, “when I rested my head on mommy’s belly, I’d tell you stories, and you’d kick me.”

Ruby panicked. “Sorry!"

Qrow laughed.

“No, no, they were good kicks.” Yang explained.

“Can kicks be good?” Ruby raised an eyebrow.

Yang nodded. “But only when you’re little. It’d be mean if we kicked each other now.”

“What if we kicked Uncle Qrow instead?”

“ _No_.” Qrow said. He looked up to the sound of chuckling; Clover had woken up, and he watched them from the door.

“I’m glad to see you’ve all made up.” He smiled.

“Pancakes~!” Ruby hopped off Qrow’s lap and grabbed Clover’s hand, trying with all her strength to drag him to the kitchen.

\---

“Alright everyone,” Catherine smiled as the children gathered their coats and lunch bags, “by the end of this week, we’ll be going on half-break! So schools will be out for one entire week.” She went around the tables with Lapis while Clover helped the kids collect their things. The two women handed out letters for their parents, including leaflets detailing any activities going on in Patch during the week out.

Teal looked like she was going to burst into tears, which was usual, while most of the children celebrated.

“Does anyone have any plans?” Catherine addressed all the children as they sat at the tables.

Orchid raised her hand. “My big brother is taking me to visit his combat school! He’s gonna be a Huntsman!”

“Oh, wonderful!” Catherine clapped her hands.

“My family’s going to the amusement park!” Jack shouted out, “we’re gonna meet Pumpkin Pete!”

“Aw, my little brother loves Pumpkin Pete!”

“You have a little brother?” Orchid tilted her head.

Catherine nodded. “I have lots of little siblings, but I’m the biggest sister. Little Jaune would be just a pinch older than all of you, though.” She made a pinching motion with her hands. The children looked gobsmacked at the idea of Catherine existing outside of the nursery.

Aurora raised her hand. “I wanna watch cartoons and eat cereal all week. Is that allowed?”

Lapis snorted. “Well, there’s no rule against it.”

“I wanna go to Atlas!” Henry nearly bolted out of his seat, making Ruby jump.

“Ooh, it’s cold up there.” She pretended to shiver. “Clover is from Atlas, you know. What’s it like, Clover?”

“It’s… yes, it’s incredibly cold.” He chuckled as the children turned to them, Henry in particular looked fascinated. “It snows an awful lot, so it can be good for snowball fights.”

“Do you get lots of monsters?” Asuma tilted her head.

“Sometimes, but we fight them off. There are lots of Huntsmen and Huntresses, so there’s nothing to worry about.” He smiled reassuringly.

That was when the first few parents began to arrive, and Catherine saw the first children off. Ruby chatted with Henry about Atlas, while Teal and Orchid argued over whether Pumpkin Pete was a huge rabbit-human, or if the character was just a tiny regular rabbit. And Clover thought about his appointment. A twinge in his lower back reminded him of it, and he stifled a groan. It took a plane ride and train to get between Atlas and Vale, and a separate train ride to get straight to Patch. The journey alone would take a day. Perhaps he could make a bit of a holiday of it. Perhaps…

Qrow was last to arrive, not too late behind the others. Lapis had been looking through Ruby’s crayon drawings while they waited, and she looked up expecting to see her sister. But Yang’s absence confused her, as it did Clover.

“Where’s trouble?” Clover passed Ruby’s lunch bag to Qrow.

“I have to pick her up in an hour,” he sighed, “she got detention today.”

Clover frowned. “What happened?”

“Apparently she said she wanted to be a Huntress. The teacher told her to set a ‘more realistic goal’.”

Clover pulled a face.

“She told the teacher to piss off.”

“Ah.”

“Little ears! Little ears!” Catherine rang out, frowning pointedly at Qrow.

“Sorry, Cathy. Just relaying what I heard.” He smirked.

“Well,” Clover chuckled as Ruby came over, taking Qrow’s hand, “I think you might have two mini-Huntresses on your back. This one’s been doing nothing all day but designing the most amazing weapon in the world. Haven’t you?”

Ruby smiled shyly, gripping her backpack.

“Wow, you’ll have to show me when we get home, Roo.” Qrow scooped Ruby up with one arm, before moving to turn away.

“Hey, uh…” Clover began, a little more nervously than he’d like. Qrow turned back to him curiously, “I… well, I have my appointment over the half-break.”

“Ah, right, good luck with that.”

“Up in Atlas.” He pointed upward, as if the entirety of Atlas was above the nursery.

Qrow nodded. An awkward silence passed over. “…Hope it goes well.”

“I mean, it’s…” He tried wording what he wanted to say. “Well I’ll be gone a few days but, well, why don’t we make a vacation out of it?” He finally got the words out.

Qrow blinked. “I mean, I can’t leave the girls…”

“No, no, I mean… don’t worry about it.” He relented. He should have just not said anything.

Qrow smiled then. “You meant a trip, all four of us?”

“It’s a dumb idea, don’t worry…” He tried to wave Qrow off, but Qrow leaned forward and shut him up with a kiss. Clover stilled, before sighing against Qrow’s lips. It was brief, but Clover was still left warm and tingling.

Qrow pulled back with a smirk. “Call me. We’ll talk about it later.” He turned at last, offering Clover a similar wink that he’d always given, and left the nursery with Ruby.

Clover could feel a dopey smile grow on his face, until he felt eyes on him. Catherine looked mildly surprised but Lapis looked over the moon. She turned to Catherine and guffawed triumphantly. “I _told_ you!”

“Wh-what?” Clover went pink.

“Don’t be silly!” Catherine looked between Lapis and Clover. “That was only a joke -!”

“It was not! I guessed right!” Lapis looked proud as ever, ignoring Catherine’s guilty fluster.

“What are you two talking about?” He tried to sound casual. It didn’t work.

“We uhm… we had a bit of a discussion about…” Catherine didn’t look at Clover, instead occupying herself by playing with the drawstring of her skirt.

“I _knew_ you and Branwen would start dating!” Lapis patted Clover on the back. “You finally worked up the courage, huh? I’m proud of you, Clover!”

Clover had never felt so embarrassed and confused. “You two had a _bet_ on me?!”

“No! No! Not a bet!” Catherine waved her hands. “Just… well… we didn’t put _money_ on it!”

“I can’t believe either of you!” He argued back, incredulous.

“Oh, come on! You were hardly subtle.” Lapis snorted, her scaled blue skin flushing green along the edges. “You practically drool over the guy whenever he comes to pick up the little one. It’s like it’s your favourite part of the day.”

“I do _not_! You know what? I’m not talking to either of you anymore.” He went to clean up the cloakroom.

“Don’t be like that, lover boy!” Lapis called after him, but he shut the door. He didn’t know if he was angry, embarrassed, or just shocked he’d been so obvious. It wasn’t exactly a secret, but… He shook his head and tried to occupy himself by tidying, but the children had left the cloakroom mostly tidy to start with. So instead he sighed, signed out, and walked home.

\---

Qrow rolled his eyes as he waited outside the principal’s office. It made him feel like _he_ was the one in trouble. It had already been a long day, and he was tired already. He really didn’t need this today… he had no doubt in his mind that Yang did swear, but why did that warrant detention _and_ a talk with the principal? Was that really the worst thing a lower-school child was capable of?

The walls of _Old Island Lower School_ were lined with encouraging posters and fun drawings done by the kids, along with mathematics posters and pop-ups detailing the differences between “they’re, their and there” – all the walls except for the hall leading to the principal’s office. The walls here were a dark navy blue, lined instead with photos of both the principal and the classes through the years that had earned the best grades… sat with the principal. In glass cases between the photos were trophies – not trophies that any children had won, but trophies that _he_ had won by being such an incredibly amazing person.

Fucking narcissist.

Qrow leaned back into his chair, his posture more appalling than usual. They couldn’t tell _him_ what to do, after all, to sit up straight or take his hands out of his pockets. Was it juvenile? Yes. And was it petty? Also yes. But wasn't everything else about the school system the same? Ruby stood on her tip-toes, trying to read the plaques on the trophies. Her little fingers left smears on the pristine glass, but she was too fascinated with the shiny gold cups to notice.

One of the teachers left the office to greet Qrow. He vaguely recognized her from the field trip. She had been nice to the kids that day, if not strict. “You can come in, now.”

Qrow pulled himself out of the plastic chair, holding out a hand for Ruby who ran to his side.

“She doesn’t have to come in.” The woman pointed to Ruby, frowning. Little Ruby stood behind her uncle, looking up at him with mild confusion. She didn’t want to be alone in the big school.

Qrow raised an eyebrow. “I’m not just leaving her out here by herself.”

“I can take her down to reception.” She held out a hand to Ruby who sunk further back. Right, Qrow understood. The woman just wanted to make things more difficult. He picked Ruby up and rested her on his hip.

“I’m not leaving my niece with a bunch of strangers.”

The woman looked surprised. “We’re teachers. We’re hardly strangers.”

“You can be both.” He moved around her and went into the principal’s office, letting the door shut behind him and putting Ruby down. Immediately she ran over to Yang and jumped up onto the big metal chair for a hug. He quickly noticed the red puffiness in Yang’s face, her wet cheeks. She’d been crying. _Someone_ had made her cry.

_Someone_ was going to have to answer to Qrow.

Principal Libra was a portly Faunas man who, when sitting down, looked like quite the intimidating figure… from the eyes of a child. When he stood up, however, he barely reached Qrow’s chest. Qrow wondered briefly if his feet touched the floor when he sat down.

“What happened today, Yang?” Qrow forewent greeting Libra to check on his niece, sitting on the chair by her side. She looked up at him and went to answer until she was spoken over by Libra. “Mr Branwen, today -”

“Is your name Yang?” Qrow’s eyes bored into the principal, who blinked. He didn’t look like the type of man who got interrupted very often.

Qrow settled his attention back to Yang, and waited for her to speak. She sniffled stubbornly. “We were taking about asb – aps – uh…”

“Aspirations?” Qrow offered.

Yang nodded. “What we wanted to be when we grow up, and why. Mrs Carob let us do drawings and a presentation of what we wanted to do.” Ruby shifted so both the girls sat in the chair together, and Yang pulled out a piece of paper from her work folder – a drawing - to show her uncle.

It took a moment for Qrow to take in the drawing. It had been made in colouring pencils so there was more room for detail; the page was covered in black and red shapes, but it wasn’t long before Qrow understood that they were supposed to be pieces of dismembered Grimm. He bit back a chuckle. There were two people in the middle of the page – a long person holding a scythe with a red jagged cape, and a smaller person with yellow hair and a giant mess of a gun.

“This is… me and you.” Qrow looked up at Yang for confirmation.

She nodded. “I wanna be a Huntress when I grow up, like you and mommy and daddy.”

“Her presentation caused a commotion in class, and that’s where it starts.” Libra looked over his glasses.

“You know, back when _I_ was a teacher,” Qrow looked back at him, “I wouldn’t usually accept answers unless someone raised their hand.”

“ _I’m_ not a student.” Libra frowned. “Your little niece caused a mess in class and even swore at a teacher! Would you have allowed _that_ in your class?”

“She swore once, from what I’ve been told.” Qrow stood up, crossing his arms. “Yeah, that’s bad. But she did it once, because she was angry and upset. And I’m sure she’s already said sorry by this point. If that’s cause enough for detention and an afterschool meeting, what would she have to do to get expelled?”

Libra stared back at Qrow, as if trying to somehow intimidate the Huntsman, but Qrow stared right back. As expected, Libra was the first to break eye contact. “This isn’t the first time she’s acted out.”

“Acted out? Your inept teachers were frustrating her by making her feel like her dream goal isn’t optional to her. Why _can’t_ she be a Huntress? Tell me.” He leaned on the table until Libra leaned back in his chair. “I’m dying to know.”

Libra cleared his throat, adjusted his tie. “Well…She hardly has the potential to hone such skills,” he started, and Yang looked up at that, “and she lacks the intellectual prowess required.”

“Intellectual – are you _fucking_ kidding me?!” Qrow shouted then, making Libra sink back in surprise. “You have no idea how smart she is because you never even give her a chance! I know how schools work – you’ve kept her in the lowest sets since she started here!”

“This is the exact attitude I’d expect from her guardian.” Libra chuckled. He _chuckled_.

“Maybe she’s been getting bad grades because your staff doesn’t have a damn clue how to teach kids! Whenever I sit with her and her worksheets, she’s fine!” Qrow held out his hand for Yang’s folder, and rifled through it angrily. Before Libra could respond, Qrow set down two sheets just from earlier that week. The same sheet of sums – one Yang had done in class, and an extra sheet she’d been given for homework that Qrow had sat with her to do. The homework sheet had scribbles down the length of the pages and by the questions, explaining the answers Yang had reached. The one she’d done in class didn’t have a single mark besides Yang’s name and her answers. Unsurprisingly, she’d gotten much better marks when she’d written down her working-out process. “See? When she’s being watched over by a _competent_ teacher, suddenly she can do these!”

Libra glanced down at the sheets, and scoffed.

“She didn’t even write her process on the one she did in class – why?”

“We don’t allow our students to doodle on their worksheets, Mr Branwen.” Libra just sounded bored now, which irritated Qrow to no end. No wonder Yang had told him or told _someone_ he hired to piss off. Qrow was a breath away from saying a lot more.

“Doodles? Do these look like doodles to you?!” Qrow gestured in exasperation, before turning to Yang. “You _really_ want to be a Huntress?”

Yang looked up at her uncle, before she clenched her little fists and nodded.

“Then I’ll teach you.” He responded, unclipping Harbinger from behind his cloak. Libra clearly hadn’t noticed the weapon; he jumped out of his seat when Harbinger’s blade suddenly segmented and curved. “I’ll teach you both. You’ll be the best Huntresses to ever come out of Patch.”

Yang’s eyes widened, and Ruby grinned. “Really?!” Yang yelled.

“You can’t bring weapons in here!” Libra pointed at the curving blade.

Qrow glanced back at him and snapped the blade back, attaching Harbinger back in its holster. “I’m a licenced Huntsman. And before you know it, my kids will be licensed Huntresses, and they’ll take their weapons wherever they damn want.” Qrow took the two worksheets and crammed them back into Yang’s folder. “We’re going home.”

He held both the girls’ hands as he walked out of the principal’s office.

“I – I haven’t dismissed you!” Libra ran to the door.

“Oh, piss off.” Qrow growled.


	15. Chapter 15

The heat of the shower water felt soothing on Clover's back. He hadn't really gone for hot showers before the attack, but these days he found he needed the relief from the ache that still felt so artificial, even after so many months. How long ago was that incident now? Nearly a year...? It didn't feel like it; he'd been unconscious through so much of his recovery it felt like he'd lost that time. Clover still remembered before, though. The crashing of the prisoner transit, the smashing of metal against ice and snow. Grimm. Gold eyes. Gold eyes, shifting to a toxic purple.

The crunch of his vertebrae against metal. Blood. Cold.

He tried not to think about it.

After his shower, Clover sat down and took his painkillers. He had started needing less and less as the weeks passed, which he took as a good thing. It was nice being able to be more active, more awake. He thought back to earlier that day… was he really that obvious in front of everyone? Had Qrow noticed beforehand? He genuinely hadn't expected Catherine or Lapis to speculate like that, and he began to wonder just how oblivious he'd been. Gods, Qrow made him feel like some giddy teenager again. But there came a comfort from that, the confirmation that he could still _feel_ like that. Clover had been in the job so long that the idea of a relationship had all but faded away into nothing. Being an Ace Ops wasn't something that stopped at the end of a shift; his whole life had to be one long shift. He had to be available at any given time. And that was fine with him, it had always been fine with him. What else was there? 

But now he had Qrow. Now he had Patch. Now he had the girls and the job at _Lucky Birds_. 

Clover loved the thrill of the job. The excitement of chasing down Grimm and other unpleasantries, the surge of adrenaline and the strain in his muscles. The constant wheels that had to turn in his mind, the challenge of it all. It made him feel capable, confident. What was he without that job?

But Qrow offered him a new thrill, one he'd forgotten about for so many years. The cockiness and comfort in those blazing red eyes, the tingling warm of his lips. The gentleness in Qrow's tone when he was with his nieces was so soothing to Clover; the vulnerability he'd shown in their most quiet moments. What was he without _that_?

Could he go back to not having that? 

That question hung in his head like a hook waiting for the curious jaws of a catch, waiting for an answer to swim by and latch on. But... nothing. It left Clover feeling uneasy. He didn't want to think of that future, not now.

Instead, he leaned back into his seat, wondering when he ought to call Qrow. Would he be busy with the girls right now? Maybe after dinner… unless he had dinner at a different time than him?

He decided eventually, after more back-and-forth in his head, to just send a text. He supposed Qrow could answer it whenever then.

**Afternoon x can I call you? Xx**

Were two kisses too much? Well, technically he’d sent three. Was that worse? Or was it sweet? Clover didn’t want to smother Qrow, but if he dialled back he was worried he wouldn’t be affectionate enough. Clearly, he hadn’t had much experience in this sort of thing for a long time.

His heart lit up when he saw the three dots jumping on the bottom of the screen; Qrow was typing!

**Ffhgly Fart fart f**

Clover did a double take, his smile fading. He stared at the scroll, furrowing his eyebrows. “What the…?”

Two minutes passed. Another message.

**That was Yang brb**

Clover sputtered, and laughed to himself. Of course it was. “Fart-fart…?!” He chuckled out loud.

It wasn’t until another twenty minutes that Clover’s scroll rung. He chuckled and answered. “Is this fart-fart?” Clover smiled.

“Shut up.” Qrow laughed on the other end of the scroll.

“ _You_ called _me_.” He smirked. He could hear the girls chatting and laughing in the background. “Are they driving you up the wall?”

“Like you wouldn’t believe.” Qrow chuckled, before letting out a long breath.

“How was detention?”

“Un-fucking-believable!”

“Little ears.”

“Oh, don’t _you_ start.” Qrow grumbled. “That principal told Yang she couldn’t be a Huntress if she wanted! Said she didn’t have the ‘intellectual prowess’.”

“Are you being serious?” Clover frowned.

“Dead serious. I nearly lost my damn mind at him.” Qrow pinched the bridge of his nose. “I was thinking of starting training for them. For Yang at least. Nothing too intense, obviously.”

Clover could hear Yang pipe up in the background. “Not ‘THINKING’! You promised you WOULD train me!”

“Whoa, firecracker!”

Clover had no idea what was happening, but he could hear a mighty commotion on Qrow’s end, the sound of Qrow laughing and yelling in the distance, Ruby babbling loudly, the sound of running on wooden floor. Clover just grinned as he listened to the snippets of back-and-forth until Qrow got his scroll back.

“Is now a bad time to chat?” He asked once Qrow was finally back and settled.

“No no, now’s fine. The little monsters will just have to entertain themselves for five minutes.” Qrow responded, breathless.

Clover chuckled, and for a moment they were both quiet.

“So about earlier, uhm…” Clover started.

“About Atlas?” Qrow finished.

“Yeah, yeah.” Clover had really started to worry that it was way too soon to ask such a thing. He wanted to earn Qrow’s trust before asking him to go on a trip with him like this, especially bringing the kids along.

“Well… we’d have to organize it. Where we’d stay, what we could do…”

Clover blinked in surprise. He was on board? “I still have my apartment there, and it’s got two bedrooms,” he suggested with a smile, “it’s close to the Academy, so if the girls are interested we could always take them down there.” Clover tried to think of anything child-friendly on that side of Atlas. Restaurants, snow, playgroups, snow, parks... Snow. Hm. “Would you really like to go?”

“Sure, why not?” Qrow yawned on the other end of the scroll, “a new change of scenery might be nice for the girls over the break. Besides, it’s been years since Patch has had proper snow. Yang’s always wanted to see the real thing.”

Clover smiled, a happiness rising in his chest. “I think they’d like Atlas.”

Qrow smiled on the other end. “I hope so, otherwise it’ll be a boring trip."

“Oh, come on. Things are never boring with you around.”

“Easy, lucky charm, before you make me swoon.” Qrow drawled, but he was chuckling. The pair chatted about the day, about the nursery, about the mundane. Clover could feel a quiet happiness he’d not felt in a long time, something about the casualness that just reassured him, comforted him. It felt… normal. Normal was nice for a change.

And when they hung up, he began to think. Was this what civilian life was like? The worry of the day-to-day? The ability to just take out the earpiece for a bit and relax? He still loved his job in Atlas, he still loved _Atlas_ ; it was his home. It was exciting, it was invigorating. But it was never quiet.

Qrow had been a Huntsman before. He’d been on missions. He knew the General on a first-name basis. He knew what the thrill of the job was. Clover didn’t know if the man missed being able to focus solely on his job, or if he fell straight into the comforts of civilian life. Well, he'd only slowed down due to such sudden grief. Clover could hardly count that as a respite from anything. And yet, despite that palpable sadness that hung over him, Qrow offered Clover something he hadn't even known he'd been craving for a long time. Companionship. He wasn't sure he could lose that.

Clover’s back was feeling better. Much better. But _he_ didn’t feel as good.

Clover sighed; he took this job to protect people. To help the world. To be the best he could be. He gave himself to the job so he could protect kids like Yang and Ruby, people like Catherine and Lapis.

He wasn’t a civilian.

Did he want to be?

\---

“Will there be Grimm in Atlas?!” Yang squeezed Clover’s hand, looking excited rather than scared. After everything that happened in the forest, Clover had expected her to be terrified of the concept of meeting any Grimm, but she seemed fired up about the idea.

“Not many in Atlas, it’s pretty well-protected, given that it floats in the sky.” He helped her climb the steps up to the airship while Qrow carried Ruby. Little Ruby seemed to be people-watching over her uncle’s shoulder, looking around in fascination and holding a lock of Qrow’s hair for comfort. When Clover noticed Yang’s disappointment, he chuckled. “We do get a fair amount of flying monsters. Nevermores and such. Why?”

“I want to kick Grimm butt!” She yelled loud enough for a few other passengers to glanced to the tiny girl. Clover could only grin wider. “Uncle Qrow is teaching me now and I’m gonna be amazing! I’m gonna kick ALL the butt!”

Clover nodded. “I’m sure you’ll be a brilliant Grimm-Butt-Kicker.”

The airship was spacious, only occupied by a few other passengers. Not many people travelled to Atlas for vacation. There were big booths, like that on a train, only larger and sleeker. The walls were white, the floor a latex blue shade. It made Clover remember the hospitals, surgeries. Laying in bed just trying to remember to breathe. A sickness stirred in his stomach.

“You alright, lucky charm?”

Qrow’s voice snapped him back, and Clover offered him a smile. “I’m fine.”

Qrow raised an eyebrow as they walked to their booth. “You’re not afraid of flying, are you…?”

“No, no, just uh… didn’t get much sleep last night.” He pointed to his back from behind his shoulder, and Qrow nodded, empathetic. They sat together in the large booth, and Qrow knelt down to help the girls buckle into the seats. It was a fairly long flight, so the seats were joined, designed to fold out into a bed – or two small beds. One of the window shutters could be closed to reveal a little television screen, which Yang immediately took interest in.

“Have you taken painkillers? Do you have any in your hand luggage?” Qrow sat by Yang temporarily to put her hair up in a bun, the hair band held between his teeth. Clover smiled, wondrous at how the motherly man before him was also the skilled scythe-wielding Huntsman in the forest barely a few weeks ago. It was a bit hypocritical, seeing as Clover of all people was the one working at a nursery, but there was something casually sweet about watching Qrow sort little Yang’s hair back that Clover couldn’t help but stare.

“Yeah, I’ll be fine, honestly,” he reassured, “you don’t have to worry about me, mother hen.”

Qrow rolled his eyes. “Of course I’ll worry, Ebi.”

“Oh, I’m not back to ‘Ebi’ again, am I?” Clover feigned a groan, holding his chest.

“Heh. Force of habit, sorry.” Qrow took the hairband out of his mouth and wrapped it around Yang’s bundle of twisted golden hair. “There we are. Very pretty, Ying-Yang.”

“Ooh.” Ruby looked up at Yang’s bun with big eyes. “My hair too? Please?” She beamed at her uncle with excitement.

“Your hair’s a bit short,” Qrow bit his bottom lip, “but I can try.”

Clover reached over to help Ruby undo her seatbelt before she hopped up and sat on Qrow’s lap, and he began trying to do something with her short blunt-cut hair. Clover noticed the tiniest edges of red right at the ends of her inky black locks, so small was the gradient that he thought it was more a trick of the light than anything. “Have you got a little something in your hair…?” He tilted his head.

“No, Ruby’s hair just goes red the longer it grows.” He noticed the look on Clover’s face. “Don’t ask. Genetics.”

“Mommy had hair like that,” Yang offered, “it’s so pretty! I wish my hair was like that.”

“Well… you have your daddy’s hair, don’t you?” Qrow smiled at Yang, trying not to look sad. Yang contemplated this, before nodding happily.

“Daddy’s hair was never long like mine.” She ran her fingers delicately over her tight bun.

“Nope, you’ve got lovely long hair.”

“Like sunshine.” Ruby smiled, before wincing as Qrow pulled her short hair back best as he could.

“Sorry, sweetie… that’s about the best I can do.” Qrow had managed to pull Ruby’s hair into two tiny puffs of hair at the top of her head, probably the smallest pigtails Clover had ever seen.

“Pretty too? Like Ying-Yang?” She shook her head to feel the pigtails swishing.

“Very, very pretty.” Qrow kissed the top of her head before moving Ruby to put her back in her seat when he noticed the holographic signs appearing around the walls. “The ship is going to be taking off now. Are you going to be brave when it takes off?”

“Yes!” Yang grinned, but Ruby looked a bit more apprehensive. The girls watched the hologram of the flight attendant relaying the usual information, and the ship began to move.

Qrow put an arm around Ruby, and she clung to his red cape as they took off. “It’s okay, sweetie.” He said softly.

Clover crossed his legs. “I’ve been on ships lots of times, it’s not scary.” He smiled soothingly at Ruby, who tilted her head a little.

“Are you sure?” She whispered.

“Positive. It’ll be okay. You’ve got me and your uncle to make sure it’ll be okay.”

“And me!” Yang reminded them all, “AND you’ve got your ladybug, right?”

Ruby looked around for her ladybug, but… it was nowhere to be seen. Qrow frowned and picked up one of the hand luggage bags they were allowed to take on, but he couldn’t find it. Ruby watched him, and Clover began to see a hint of fear on the girl’s pale face. “Where’s Ladybug?” She asked.

Clover helped look through their bags, but there was no toy to be found. Yang even looked through her own backpack, but they just didn’t have it. “No, no, no…” Qrow growled in frustration, even checking his pockets as if it could be there. Nothing.

“Where’s Ladybug?!” Ruby yelled, gripping the hem of her skirt with panic.

“It’s – it’s okay, sweetie, we might have left her at home.” Qrow tried to reason, but there were already tears in little Ruby’s eyes. They were already in the air by now.

“I had her with me! I remember bringing her!” Ruby shook her head, and Yang tried to pat her sister’s back but Ruby batted her hand away. “I lost Ladybug!”

“No, maybe she’s home, it’s okay…!” But the rest of Qrow’s words were drowned out by Ruby’s sudden cries. Her face went red and she shrieked, deep into the throws of her tantrum. Clover had to wince at how painful her screams were. Not just the horrendous pitch, but it _sounded_ like she was in pain. Like she was wailing her utter heart out. He had to feel for the poor girl.

The seatbelt sign finally flicked off, and Qrow quickly unbuckled them both to pick Ruby up. “Yang, stay with Clover.” He walked up and down the length of the ship’s walking space with her. The sound of her screeches could be heard all across the ship, and Clover grimaced. She’d never cried like this in nursery.

“Do you remember her having Ladybug with her?” He asked Yang, worriedly.

Yang shook her head, looking just as concerned. “She _might_ have left it at home…” she sounded more like she hoped than really believed.

“Maybe we’ll find it when we get home,” he offered, “we might get lucky, hm?”

Yang nodded, but she didn’t really seem to be listening to him, instead paying attention to her sister’s screams and the distant sound of her uncle trying to soothe her. In the time the two were gone, Clover tried to occupy Yang by showing her how to put something on the sliding TV screen; because their tickets included children, the TV had been locked into Kids Mode. The only shows currently available were reruns of an old cartoon even Clover remembered as a kid, a few movies… and a musical about a ladybug. Clover quickly skipped past that one.

It couldn’t have been shorter than half an hour before Qrow came back to the booth, an exhausted and resigned look on his face. Ruby was still crying, though her sobs were much softer now. But that only sounded more heart-breaking to Clover; he was never very good at having to listen to children crying, no matter the reason.

Qrow sat back down next to Clover and held Ruby on his lap, and she still cried. Clover wanted to cheer her up but he had no clue what to say. He didn’t want to suggest that they simply buy another toy – that was _her_ Ladybug, another one simply wouldn’t be the same. So he stayed in awkward silence as Qrow rocked Ruby back and forth against his chest until she started falling asleep, her energy depleted from the fit. Her face was red and puffy, her round cheeks wet with tears.

Clover put a sympathetic hand over Qrow’s. “We can always look for it when we get back to Patch.” he suggested quietly, watching Ruby drift off with one final sniffle.

“…Well… Something had to go wrong.” Qrow sighed, leaning back into his seat.


	16. Chapter 16

Clover hadn’t been to his apartment since his injury, save to pack for the trip to Patch. It felt… odd. It was good to be back, but he wasn’t sure if he ought to call this place his home, or the flat in Patch. He supposed both… right?

The girls bolted in, curious and excited. It was bright, it was spacious. “You play video games?!” Yang made a beeline for the TV screen, the few consoles plugged into the sides.

“Yang, don’t touch anything - !” Qrow called after Yang, before Ruby began climbing onto the back of the sofa. He lifted the girl and put her over his shoulder but she only grumbled and gripped handfuls of his cape, still upset over her lack of Ladybug. “This is Clover’s place! I don’t want either of you to make a mess!”

Clover laughed as he put the remaining luggage to the side. “We could play a few games once we unpack. Would that be fun?”

Yang’s eyes lit up, and she picked up her backpack and sped down the hall.

“Hey – SHOES OFF!” Qrow marched after her, still holding Ruby over his shoulder… and still wearing his _own_ shoes.

The flat had three rooms, one being Clover’s room and the other one simply being a mini gym of sorts. The third was a guest room he’d rarely used; when he was younger he always thought he’d have such an active social life, friends and family always coming round to see him. He learned not to think that way anymore – but he smiled at the fact that it’d at least be put to use now.

Qrow and Clover first helped the girls unpack in the guest room, kneeling by the drawers and putting their clothes away, while Yang got distracted with the wall decorations and Ruby flopped onto the bed, immediately squirming and rolling around on the blanket. “Soft, soft,” she smiled to herself before diving under the covers.

“Don’t bury yourself under there, pipsqueak,” Qrow patted the lump under the blanket, “you’re so little you might not find your way out.”

Ruby gasped quietly and crawled out, before flopping onto her uncle’s lap.

“The bed isn’t _that_ big!” Yang rolled her eyes dramatically.

“Not for you, but Ruby’s only teeny-tiny. Aren’t you, pipsqueak?” Qrow smirked at his littlest niece.

She stubbornly shook her head, before looking over at the open suitcase. “Ladybug in there?”

Clover sighed softly. “Can’t find her yet, kiddo.”

Ruby looked morose, and she got up and joined Yang.

“She could still just be at home. It’s okay.” Clover tried to reassure her, but it seemed to be of little use. She put the pacifier in her mouth and held Yang’s hand. He couldn’t help but feel guilty; perhaps he would have seen it if it had been dropped on their way there. _Should_ have seen it. But when he looked to Qrow, he realized his feelings must have been tenfold what Clover felt. “Hey,” he said softly enough so only Qrow could hear. Qrow glanced up, and Clover put a hand on his knee, “this wasn’t you. Alright?”

Qrow rolled his eyes, but smiled and took Clover’s hand in his. “You’re sweet, Cloves.”

Clover’s heart couldn’t help but flutter just a touch at the way Qrow said his name. It was definitely an upgrade from “Ebi”, at any rate. “I’m being serious, Qrow.”

Qrow just waved him away, and before Clover could go further, Yang jumped up onto the bed in a huff. “When is your appointment, Clover?”

“Tomorrow morning. It shouldn’t be too long.” He smiled.

“Are they gonna inject you with stuff? Take your temperature?” She leaned forward to grab a handful of Qrow’s hair, who tried not to wince as she began plaiting the greying black tangle. “Oooh, are they gonna take your eyeballs out? When I went it’s because my eyes hurt, and my daddy had to hold my eyes open while the doctor dropped water into them and I cried but it was okay because I got a lollipop after.”

“…Nobody is going to be taking my eyeballs. I assure you.” He tried not to chuckle. “They just next to check my back.”

“Check it for what? Worms? There was a boy in my class who got worms.”

“Yang.” Qrow gave her a look.”

Clover shook his head, but arched his back when he felt a little hand pressed between his shoulder blades. He turned to see Ruby with a startled expression on her face. She put her hand on his back again and took out her dummy. “Sharp.”

“Ruby, hands to yourself.” Qrow frowned.

“Sorry. Why sharp?” She looked up at Clover curiously. He swallowed.

“Well… some of my back is made from metal.” He tried to explain, but he worried that that might have sounded too simple.

“Metal?! Are you a robot?!” Yang grinned.

“Beep boop!” Ruby bent her arms and pretended to be a robot. Clover could only laugh as he watched the girls twist and wriggle mechanically, and started joining them.

Qrow stared at Clover and then his nieces, and then back to Clover. He couldn’t help the smile from flowering over his face. His heart soothed in a way it hadn’t been for a long while. Clover made him think of Tai, but for the first time, thinking of either of his friends didn’t _hurt_. There came that ache in his chest, one which he’d grown accustomed to keeping wedged awkwardly between his ribs, feeling it there as a constant reminder that they were gone, a heavy pendulum counting away the days gone by without them. But that ache had softened just a touch, a feather of weight lifted from it. And in place of that weight came a calm, casual happiness.

He found he could get used to this.

\---

Clover shook his head as he leaned back against the sofa, watching Qrow beating Yang in the video game flashing up on the holo-screen. It was an old ninja game Clover had treated himself to years ago, but hadn’t really played much himself. However, when Yang saw it she nearly lost her mind, holding the case up above her head gleefully. If he’d been playing, he would have gone easier on the child, given that she was, well, a _child_. But Qrow seemed to have other plans.

“I’ll kick your butt this time, old man!” Yang wailed as her final life flashed up on the screen. She clutched the controller with hands clearly too small, and yet she handled it well.

“You’re all talk, kiddo.” Qrow scoffed, and a few minutes later Yang was defeated. She grumbled, clearly tempted to launch the controller across the room, while Qrow laughed triumphantly. It was a loud laugh, one that warmed Clover.

“Oh come on, go easy on her.” Clover chuckled. Ruby sat by him, drawing in a colouring book and purposely going over the lines to make her own drawings.

“If she wants to fight Grimm she’ll have to learn to defeat me first!” Qrow smirked.

Clover simply rolled his eyes and held his hand out to Yang for the controller. She pouted and passed it over, and Clover sat on her cushion. “Well… if you’re such a challenging obstacle, I want to see if you can beat me, too.”

“You have no idea who you’re messing with, lucky charm.” He smirked wickedly.

“You’re a big kid, you know that?” Clover chuckled. They sat together, a zap of electricity running down Clover’s arm every time their shoulders brushed together. He selected a different character, one of the only ones he’d actually played as before.

“Really? Zwei? He’s one of the worst characters to play in this game!” Qrow snorted.

“Zwei is the best! He’d beat you up in real life!” Yang roared from the sofa.

Qrow huffed, but Clover stuck with the character, and they selected an arena. Clover was confident, he was _lucky_ , but Qrow knew all the combos, had them memorized. The first round, and his character died before he could even deplete half of Qrow’s health bar. Qrow laughed maniacally and clicked just the right buttons to create the final killing combo on Clover’s already-K.O’d character. A cutscene played, showing Qrow’s character reaching into Zwei’s chest and ripping out his heart. Blood burst on the screen like a water balloon filled with ready-mix paint, and Clover grimaced.

“A bit graphic, isn’t it…?” He glanced back at the girls in worry, but Ruby was disinterested and Yang seemed filled with rage.

“What was that?! That was the stupid-est move in the game!” She flopped back in her seat.

“Hey, that was a finishing move! It was cool!” Qrow protested.

“You’re childish.” Clover pouted a little as they started their second round.

Qrow rolled his eyes. “Let’s just hurry up so I can beat you. I won’t go easy on you, either.”

“I was hoping you weren’t.” Clover winked, and he used the few precious moments of fluster bubbling up in Qrow to get the first few attacks in.

“H-hey! You cant - ! That’s not fair!” Qrow tried focusing on the game again.

“All’s fair in love and war, my darling.” Clover grinned. Qrow went redder, and his health bar went lower.

“Shut up!”

“Can’t take a bit of banter, my sweet? My lovey dovey cupcake?” Qrow covered Clover’s face with his hand, controlling his character one-handed. “Hey! Now THAT is cheating!”

“Uncle Qrow! Stop it!” Yang called out.

“Fight! Fight! Fight!” Ruby finally looked up from her drawings to chant.

“If he can play dirty then so can I!”

“Oh, you haven’t seen me play dirty yet.” Clover shoved Qrow’s arm away and got him into a headlock. “ _This_ is playing dirty!”

Qrow wriggled bravely, but couldn’t get out and focus on the screen. By the time he was free from Clover’s grip, he was red in the face and his character was dead. Clover button-mashed for the last few seconds, hoping on getting some combo by accident, and to his good fortune he did.

The cutscene showed Zwei jumping off the ground and spinning in the air, before landing on the shoulders of Qrow’s character. He squeezed his muscular thighs until the other character’s head exploded with a cartoonish “pop!” and a wave of pixelated brains and bone. Clover blinked at Zwei’s blood-soaked thighs, and a rather specific vision of Qrow popped into his head that he didn’t want to admit turned him on just the tiniest bit.

“That wasn’t fair!” Qrow shoved him, before freezing. “Oh gods your back, I’m so sorry - !”

“Don’t worry, I’m fine. We’ve fought Grimm together and you’re worried a little shove is going to break me?” Clover chuckled, watching Qrow go a deeper shade of red when he looked away. “Besides, _you_ were cheating by going up against a kid!”

“I’m not a kid! I’m 6 entire years old!” Yang cried. “I’m pretty much a grown-up by now!”

“Sure you are, firecracker.” Qrow drawled, tilting his head back and smirking at Clover with just the right amount of sarcasm to irritate and excite him. Clover could see the outline of his neck, the bobbing of his adams-apple. He remembered the spot on Qrow’s pulse that made him make those lovely sounds all those nights ago. “See, Cloves? She’s a _grown-up,_ so it’s not cheating.”

“I’ll show you cheating.” He lunged at Qrow then, gripping his arms and throwing them both to the carpeted floor to steal a kiss. Qrow squirmed, but his surprised squawk quickly soothed into a deep chuckle that made Clover’s heart flutter, and he melted just that little bit against Clover’s lips. Clover could have so easily melted into him in that precious moment.

Ruby laughed loudly, the first proper laugh she’d had since they got on the airship, while Yang made such dramatic gagging noises she nearly made herself vomit. “Ew! EW! Stop it!” She squealed, watching her uncle and Clover with disgust and horror.

“You said you were grown up now.” Qrow chuckled as they both relented, though somewhat reluctantly.

Yang pulled such a face of abhorrence so unfitting for a tiny girl that Clover couldn’t help but laugh, and he ran his hands down Qrow’s arms, feeling the muscles under the fabric of his shirt. “You’re cold, love.”

“Jeez, can you stick to one pet name for me?” He waved Clover’s hands off nonchalantly, still joking. “And I’ve been cold since we got here. I don’t have many cold-weather clothes, so I hope you’re willing to deal with a hefty heating bill before we go home.”

Clover chuckled and rolled his eyes. For once, he was wearing something with sleeves (such a scandal!), a petrol blue hoodie he’d had since he could remember. He unzipped it and shrugged it off, before holding it out to Qrow like it was the most normal thing in the world. Qrow looked down at the hoodie and then back at Clover, raising an eyebrow. Didn’t he understand?

“Put it on if you’re cold.” Clover smiled. He had to bite his bottom lip to stop from giggling at Qrow’s face; the redness had just started to dissipate, but now it was back in full force, spreading to his pale ears and blending down his neck.

“It – it’s fine, _I’m_ fine. Don’t be stupid.” He looked away, speaking quickly. “You’re not – I mean you’re not an idiot, just… put the damn hoodie back on. I don’t need it.”

“Shush.” Clover reached over and put a hand on Qrow’s arm. “I’m hot-blooded. Put it on – unless you want me to put it on for you.”

Qrow’s brain seemed to give out for a few seconds, before he huffed and ‘reluctantly’ allowed Clover to put the hoodie on him, sliding the sleeves up each arm perhaps slower than needed; anything to keep that sweet blush on Qrow’s face for even a second longer. Qrow could feel Clover’s fingers press lightly into his shoulders, the back of his neck, as he fixed the hood. Qrow couldn’t meet his eyes as he moved around to zip it up. Clover wasn’t much bigger than Qrow, at least he didn’t think so, but the hoodie looked cutely oversized on the other Huntsman. Baggy. “It suits you.” Clover smiled, and Qrow finally looked up at him, a hint of sheepishness in his gaze.

“Th-thanks.” He said softly.

“Hood, hood, hood.” Ruby clambered off the sofa and tugged at the drawstrings, looking up at her uncle with big eyes. He sighed, and Clover raised an eyebrow.

“What do we say, Roo?” Qrow patted her head.

“Please!” She smiled proudly.

“You can do better than that, pipsqueak.”

She pouted, but tried her best. “Can… I… please… hood?”

Qrow realized that was the best he was going to get, so he undid the zip on the hoodie and let Ruby climb in, her petite form making her perfect for the space. He carefully did the zip up around her and so she was nuzzled into her uncle’s chest, held in with the pouch that was the hoodie. The child was adorable on her own, but Clover hadn’t anticipated something that cute.

“Does she do that… often?”

“Yep. She likes sticking close. Don’t you, sweetie?” Qrow kissed the top of Ruby’s head, and her happy face stuck out around Qrow’s neck.

Yang hopped off the sofa. “Uncle Qrow used to carry her around in a harness, but he don’t anymore.”

Clover remembered the first time he’d seen them in the grocery store so long ago. He had wondered about that. “Getting a bit too grown-up for that, hm?” He smiled gently at Ruby, who only frowned in response.

“Don’t wanna.” She mumbled. “Wanna stay little.” Then, her frown deepened, and she twisted to press her head into the crook of Qrow’s neck. “Want Ladybug.”

“I know, sweetie. I’m sorry.” Qrow said sadly. “I’m really sorry.”

Qrow blamed himself. Clover could see the guilt in his eyes, as though he’d personally had responsibility over the toy. The ways that Misfortune could manifest wasn’t actually something Clover had thought about when Qrow told him, but now he began to wonder what it could do. If it was really like the opposite of his own Semblance. He bit his bottom lip, a guilt of his own crawling over him. If only his own luck had let them find the damn toy, Ruby would be much happier. Now _he_ felt responsible. Guilty.

He tried to distract them before it set in too deep. “It’s getting late – why don’t we order some takeout? My treat.”

Qrow looked up at that as Clover took out his scroll. “You don’t have to do that. I can pay.”

“LET’S HAVE NOODLES!” Yang beamed, turning excitedly to her sister. That morose expression ebbed away to make room for curiosity.

Clover smiled, getting up an online menu. “Don’t worry, you can pay next time.” He winked and moved over so Yang could sit with them, and they looked through the menu together.

And for a moment, it made Clover wonder if this was what having a family felt like.

\---

“They’re both fast asleep. Yang’s desperate to get out into the snow.” Qrow smiled as he came into Clover’s room. Clover smiled back, watching Qrow climb into bed with him. It was a comfort he could get used to easily, feeling that weight next to him. Qrow shivered, shifting to cuddle into Clover, though they were both well aware it was less about romance and more for warmth. “Gods, it’s freezing. How do you live like this?”

Clover rolled his eyes and wrapped his arms around Qrow. “It’s refreshing. And I’ve told you, I’m hot-blooded.”

Qrow pouted at him.

“It’s too hot in Patch, I have to sleep with the windows open. I don’t know how _you_ handle _that_ weather.”

“It’s nice, especially when you get a good breeze. But this is just… ugh.”

Clover chuckled, and kissed the top of Qrow’s head. “You’re cute.”

“Shut it.”

“I’m serious, love, you’re adorable.” He teased, laying back into the bed.

Qrow grumbled, but sat up and kissed Clover softly, gently. “I quite like it when you call me ‘love’.” He leaned his hand on the middle of Clover’s chest, but lifted his weight when he heard him wince. “Shit, sorry. Is your back…?”

“Not my back, the other one.” Clover tried to offer Qrow a reassuring smile.

“The other…?”

“I uh…” Clover propped himself up on his pillow, rapping a knuckle on the chunk of metal where his breastbone once was. “Prosthetic breastbone. Same injury.”

“What… what exactly happened, Cloves?” He asked careful, placing a gentle hand over Clover’s chest atop his shirt. He looked curious, but hesitant. Pensive.

“I…” he swallowed, “we got a report of a prisoner cargo being halted. I headed out to secure the prisoner, and… he got the upper hand. I underestimated him. I don’t know where he got the blade, but… he stabbed me through the back, and it came out the other side.” Clover undid the first few snaps on his shirt, revealing some of the strange circular scar between his pecs. Qrow looked at the scar, before lifting his hand again and running the tips of his fingers so gently over the rougher skin. Clover held his breath, watching Qrow touch his bare skin. It soothed and elated him, but he couldn’t think to describe the way that feeling heightened when Qrow leaned down and kissed the scar. Clover stilled, his eyes widening as he felt Qrow’s lips pressing lovingly into the skin, tilting his head for their eyes to meet. There was sadness there in those red eyes, but there was understanding. There wasn’t the pity he vaguely recalled in the faces of nameless doctors and nurses, and he loved the respite of that.

Qrow’s lips travelled further up, tracing the edge of the scar where the different types of skin met around the collarbone, and Clover remembered to breathe again. He sighed softly as he leaned back, letting Qrow explore the few spots of skin available to him. Exploring Clover, loving him quietly. Clover tilted his head back, offering up his neck, and sighing happily at the feeling of Qrow’s lips on his jaw; then, his teeth. He hissed softly, running a hand through Qrow’s salt-and-pepper hair as his heart picked up. It wasn’t until Qrow slung a long leg over Clover’s hip that he realized there was a clear path they were headed to. “Won’t they wake up?” He whispered, moving a hand under the covers to hook under Qrow’s knee to keep his leg where it was.

“They will if you can’t keep quiet,” Qrow shifted to straddle Clover’s lap properly, gazing down at him with a devilish smirk, “but if you can keep your voice down… and if I just keep my mouth full…”

“Gods, Qrow…” But Clover didn’t protest. The man on top of his was too gorgeous to deny, and it had been _so long_ since Clover had this kind of attention on him. He wanted it, he wanted Qrow. Their kiss was electricity between their lips, and the weight on Clover’s lap was a feeling so wonderful he’d have worshipped it.

Then, Qrow rolled his hips into Clover’s, and the sudden surge of heat forced a groan to rise from his lips. His hands found their way onto Qrow’s thighs, urging him on, and Qrow chuckled, more than happy to. For a while, that was all Qrow would give, the slow attentive rocking of his hips until he was rolling over Clover’s impressive bulge. He reached down with one hand and cupped his lover, and Clover had to bite down on his bottom lip to stop himself from becoming any louder. This was something he’d yearned for from Qrow, a desperate ache for attention that he was eager to explore, to resolve. And it made everything all the better when he could feel the hardness growing in Qrow’s sweatpants, the silent promise that he was yearning for it too. Clover shifted just a touch to kiss Qrow’s neck lovingly, to find that pulse point and _bite_. Then it was Qrow’s turn to stifle his moans. Clover felt a surge of playful triumph in that, and he locked onto the spot that made Qrow begin to turn like butter on top of him.

A light switched on down the hall. “Uncle Qrow~?!” Yang called out. “Can I have some water?!”

Qrow sat straight up, alert, embarrassed without even being caught. “Uh, coming! Hold on!” He called, and Clover let his body melt into the bed miserably. Qrow turned back to him and smiled apologetically. “I’m sorry, I have to…”

“It’s fine, it’s fine, go ahead.” Clover found the smallest respite in the way Qrow kissed his cheek, before he got out of bed and pulled on Clover’s dressing gown. And with that, Clover was alone in his room, damp with sweat and achingly turned on.

He could hear Yang’s voice in the distance, then coupled with Ruby’s. Both of the girls were up and neither of them sounded tired in the slightest. He almost wanted to sob at the loss of what tonight almost offered. But he couldn’t _blame_ any of them. And at the same time, despite what his body was longing for, he just felt uncomfortable finishing now. So he laid back properly, and tried to actually sleep.

Maybe tomorrow.


	17. Chapter 17

Clover awoke to the sound of Qrow’s voice. Angry. Tired.

He groaned, trying to figure out where his boyfriend was, and he sat up in bed. His back was stiff; he’d fallen asleep twisted more awkwardly than usual. He grimaced and sat up, stretching up and hunching over, rolling his shoulders gingerly. Trying to loosen the tension. It helped… a little. But he was more concerned with the distant sound of Qrow’s voice.

He could hear him from the bathroom, the ensuite attached to Clover’s room. He didn’t want to eavesdrop… but he was nosy.

“And I just told you, I have the kids with me. I can’t just swoop off to – there is _nobody else_ to watch them! Otherwise I’d be there already!” Then, a long pause. “I _know_ I can’t bring them.”

Clover raised an eyebrow, and took to getting changed. He started to worry if he was getting a bit too used to his loose-fitting joggers and hoodies, if the uniform would feel too tight – though with how much weight he’d lost while healing, it could even be too loose. He’d have to try it on again.

He wondered if Qrow would like the uniform.

Qrow walked out of the bathroom, glaring at his scroll like the device had personally offended him.

“Everything okay?” Clover got his attention.

“Ah, sorry. I woke you, didn’t I?” Qrow scratched the back of his head, but Clover waved him off with a smile.

“No, not at all. What was all that about?”

Qrow frowned, putting his scroll away. “Mission call. A meeting, rather. But strictly no kids. Just something I’m gonna have to put on the backburner.” He summarised, trying to sound casual, but Clover could tell he was worried.

Clover bit his bottom lip. “Back down in Patch?”

“No, Atlas actually.” He blurted, before remembering himself. “It’s… it can wait.”

Clover hummed, getting up and raking his fingers through his hair in front of the geometric mirror. “Well, if you want to leave the little monsters with me, I’d be happy to watch them.”

Qrow blinked, and shook his head. “You have your appointment soon. I can’t dump them on you like that.”

“Come on, I work with Ruby and her little friends every day. They’ll be fine with me.” He smiled at Qrow’s reflection. “I know the doctor, too, they’d be safe with me.”

Qrow thought about it for a few long moments, hesitation still crossed over his features.

“It’ll be fine, Qrow. If you end up being a while, I’ll take them out to lunch.”

“Are you sure you’d be fine? With your back and everything…”

“Qrow. If I can deal with a classroom of wild kids, I can deal with two for a few hours. Even _your_ ones.” He smirked, reaching out and running his fingers through Qrow’s hair, running his thumb over one of the messy plaits still lingering in his locks. “Do they always plait your hair?”

Qrow chuckled softly. “Never grow your hair out, or you’ll be next.” He sighed and nuzzled against Clover’s hand. “Are you _sure_?”

Clover nodded. “Positive.”

Qrow sighed once more, this time in resignation and relief. “Thank you, Clover. I really won’t be long.”

“I should hope not, I never want to see the back of you.” He dipped close for a kiss, surprising but delighting Qrow.

“You two are disgusting.” Yang glared up at them from the door.

“ _Yang_!” Qrow went pink, pulling away from Clover. “You need to knock!”

Yang wiped her nose on her sleeve, leaving a snot stain on the fabric. “Can we have breakfast now?”

Clover chuckled, shaking his head. Disgusting.

\---

The doctor’s office was the least Atlesian place Clover could hope to find in Atlas. Gone were the white walls, the blood reds, the navy blues. They were replaced with cream walls and rich wooden furniture. It was a comforting place, more reminiscent of a Mistral café than an Atlas clinic, much less one so close to the Academy’s campus.

Clover was flicking through a spelling book with Ruby as she chewed thoughtfully on her dummy. She’d been getting better at her speech and spelling, Clover had noticed. He’d noticed how much she was improving at nursery, how proud she was getting of finally catching up with the other kids. She’d even been using her pacifier less and less, only really when she was nervous or irate. Thanks to that, Clover was getting better at seeing if she was okay or not by spotting the pacifier. She took the dummy out of her mouth, the little pink ribbon and clip attaching it to her shirt under her coat. Far under her coat.

Qrow might not have brought much in the way of warm clothes with him, but he’d definitely packed well for the children. Perhaps a bit too well. They both had big puffy coats on, a vibrant sunshine yellow for Yang and a brilliant rose red for Ruby. But on top of that were thermo pants, fuzzy socks, wellies, fuzzy mittens, hats, ear muffs, scarves. Atlas was cold, sure, but the girls were having to waddle to get from A to B.

Clover loved how protective Qrow was over them both, but this might have been a bit overkill. Either that, or Clover was just far too used to the cold.

“Oh, what a little darling!”

Clover looked up at the sound of the old lady’s voice. The bell above the door rang quaintly as she entered, hunched over and gripping her shawl. She’d sat opposite, but was such a tiny figure that Clover had barely noticed her. Now, he saw her smiling at Ruby, clutching her cane. The cane, he also noticed, ended with a carved and jewelled skull.

Ruby giggled shyly, wrapping her tiny hands around Clover’s elbow.

“Aw, she’s such a tiny little one, isn’t she?” The woman cooed, before looking up at Clover. He’d mistaken her optical implants for funky glasses at first, but could now see the grey metal affixed to her face and the glowing blue ring-lenses she must be using to see. “How old is she?”

“Oh, she’s about 4 now.” Clover smiled back, ruffling Ruby’s hair.

Ruby glanced down at the skull on the woman’s cane, and hopped off the chair to check it out. “Bones.” She looked back at Clover for confirmation.

“Yeah, that one is a skull.” He rapped the side of his head with his knuckle, and Ruby looked very pleased with herself.

She looked back at the old lady with a grin. “I like bones!”

The lady giggled, before pausing to take a closer look at Ruby. Clover watched carefully. “You… why, you have silver eyes.” The old lady said very quietly.

Yang took the spelling book from Clover and flicked through the pages. “Cool, huh? Mine are only purple. I want silver eyes. Nobody in my school has them. Are they rare?”

“What does ‘rare’ mean?” Ruby looked back at Clover and her sister, neither taking much notice of the staring woman.

“It means not many people have them,” the lady said softly, a smile returning to her face, “you must be very lucky to have them.”

Ruby beamed at that, before toddling back over to Clover and Yang.

“Are you here for an injection?” Yang asked the woman. “Or are they going to take out your eyeballs and - ?”

“Yang,” Clover hushed her, but the woman couldn’t be more amused.

“Oh yes, the doctor is going to take out my eyes and put them in a jam jar.” She sniggered.

Yang lit up. “Really?!”

“Of course not.” Clover interjected, shaking his head.

“Well… I am getting this old thing fixed up, which is close enough.” She poked her optical lenses.

It was then that an elderly man walked out of the door leading to the offices. Well… “walking” was a strong word. The kind-looking man used a specially-designed chair equipped with four robotic limbs to move about, as opposed to the usual wheelchairs one might expect. Yang looked over, fascinated with the contraption.

“Mr Ebi, right?” Dr Polendina adjusted his glasses as he looked down at his holo-tablet, and Clover stood up. “Am I saying that right? _Ehb_ … _Eeb_ …?”

“ _Eh-bee_. Don’t worry about it.” He smiled as the two girls hopped around by his legs.

The doctor chuckled as he looked over at the children, before ushering them into a screening room. It was spacious, fit with a mechanical bed built into the floor and what looked like a large tube one could step into in the middle of the room. There were scribbles and notes across a holographic bulletin, and a sitting corner by the door that slid shut automatically after them.

Clover had to help Ruby onto the high seats in the corner as Dr Polendina checked over his notes. “Now um… hm… what was it I had to do for you?”

Clover tried not to frown. “A uh… prosthetic check-up? You replaced my breastbone and some of my vertebrae around this time last year?”

The doctor glanced over the tablet, and then took a proper look at the man before him. Then a surprised smile broke out over his face. “Oh, Young Clover! The one with the prosthetic vertebrae and breastbone, right?”

“…right.” Clover smiled, shaking his head a little at the old man.

“I designed the back pieces myself, you know. But the breastbone really only needed some old blueprint revision…” The doctor was clearly starting to talk more to himself, and Clover crossed his arms.

“I was scheduled in for a check-up, doctor.”

“Ah, yes. Yes. My apologies.” He clicked a few buttons on the tablet, and a door slid open on the white tube which he gestured to. “Step right on in. But uh, make sure you don’t have anything metal on you. Wouldn’t want the scans getting confusing. What with my eyes, that’s the last thing I’d need.”

Clover chuckled, unzipping his hoodie and putting it by Yang’s seat before stepping in. The tube was a royal blue inside; somehow it was dark, and yet the panels glowed.

“Can I go after?!” Yang ran over and stared into the tube, curious and excited.

Dr Polendina laughed softly. “Maybe after your father is done with his scan, little one.”

“She’s not…” Clover began, but the tube door slid shut. He only chuckled again, and he wondered if the old lady from outside thought he was the girls’ dad as well.

“Now,” the doctor’s voice came from inside the tube from a little speaker above Clover, “just relax and stand up straight. Try to stay as still as possible. Oh – and take long, deep breaths.”

Clover did as the doctor said, and he shut his eyes when the blue panels glowed brighter. They soon turned yellow panel by panel, scan by scan, each making a deep “ _bwhirp_!” as they changed colour. After those scans, the doctor took Clover’s heart rate, his temperature, his weight, and a few other small tests just for good measure.

“Your weight is improving, which is always a good sign,” Dr Polendina noted, “how has your movement been? Is it still difficult?”

“Not as much, actually. Walking, running, fighting… it does still hurt if I do too much though.”

The doctor looked up in confusion. “Fighting?”

“I’ve had to assist with a few Grimm attacks, but not many,” Clover explained, “once the adrenaline wore off, though, I could barely sit up straight.”

Dr Polendina stared at him in surprise. “You shouldn’t be able to fight Grimm this early on in your recovery. Are you sure you’re not in any more pain?”

Clover shook his head with a little frown. “I’ve honestly been fine. I _have_ been taking it slow, those were just… minor incidents.”

“He whooped Grimm butt.” Yang smirked, crossing her arms. “You should have seen them, there were hundreds!”

“There weren’t hundreds,” he chuckled, “barely a dozen that time.”

Dr Polendina still looked surprised, and by then the scans had finished loading onto the bulletin. He pressed a button on the tablet and the scans came closer to where they all gathered, projected onto the wall. Clover felt weird being able to see his own ribs, his hip bones… the few vertebrae that were still natural seemed like such a harsh white against the prosthetics which came up a darkish blue.

“You… your healing has been remarkable.” Dr Polendina pushed his glasses up the rim of his nose. “I wasn’t expecting it to be this fast.”

Clover scratched the back of his head, unsure how to respond. But the doctor seemed more than happy.

“This is wonderful news, Young Clover. I can contact the General for you immediately.” He offered Clover an enthusiastic smile. “You’ll be back to your old Atlas life in no time!”

Something stabbed at his heart. Something sudden, something fresh. He couldn’t explain the sting, the… reluctance? Sadness? “Great.” He nodded.

\---

Clover tried to stay upbeat for Ruby and Yang, but he couldn’t stop himself from thinking about the appointment. He sat in the café with them, pensive and unusually quiet, as they waited for their food.

Going back to Atlas had always been the end goal. Get better, heal up, and head back. Go back to his team, go back to his job. His life. Clover loved his job, loved his work, loved Atlas. So why did that thought hurt so much…?

He reached for his scroll and got up Qrow’s contact. Somehow, that both soothed the pain and amplified it. He wanted to be an Ace-Ops member, he wanted to lead them. He wanted this. But he wanted Qrow, too. He wanted Patch. He wanted Ruby and Yang and the nursery. The smell of the ocean always in the breezy air, the sun that always shone gold. He wanted to be a part of two different worlds that just… didn’t fit together. They would not coexist, they would collide. What was Clover supposed to do? What future was his? He wouldn’t be healing forever… but did that mean he wouldn’t have Qrow forever?

He pushed the thought down and put his scroll away. He couldn’t think about that now. Not now. _Not now_.

“You look sad.” Ruby said.

“Oh, uh, I’m sorry.” Clover replied, not really knowing what he was apologizing for. “Just… thinking about a lot of different things.”

“That man said your back was getting better.” Yang smiled. “When it’s all better, can you teach me Grimm fighting with Uncle Qrow?”

Now that hurt.

Before he could answer – thankfully – his scroll rang. Qrow’s name popped up on the screen, and he smiled apologetically at Yang before he answered. “Hey, Qrow. It’s all done, we’ve just popped down to…”

Clover could hear Qrow’s voice on the other end, distant. Harsh. “See that? That’s the ‘send’ button!”

“Qrow? Everything alright - ?”

“Communication is a two-way street, pal!”

Clover frowned, glancing at the screen before holding it to his ear again. “Can you hear me…? Is everything alright?”

There was still Qrow’s voice, suddenly a but more muffled. It sounded like he was having a conversation – or an argument – with someone else. Had he called accidentally. Confirming that was the sound of someone else’s voice.

The General’s.

Clover couldn’t make out what either of them were saying, but they both sounded majorly pissed off. Every now and then there came a third voice chiming in, another man’s, though he sounded calmer. Clover thought that perhaps he should just hang up; if Qrow was talking to Ironwood, perhaps it was classified.

“I already made up my mind, I’m not putting them in a fucking care home!” Qrow growled, the words just about audible on Clover’s end.

“They’re children, they’re in danger. We need you on missions, Qrow.” The General’s voice was barely a whisper. “They’re a liability.”

“They’re my nieces! I’m all they’ve got! They need me!”

The General chuckled darkly. “Are you sure _they_ need _you_?”

Clover paused. He glanced at Ruby and Yang as they chatted quietly. Did The General really just say that?

“HOW DARE YOU - ?!” Qrow’s voice blasted, followed by the sound of a wind wave, of Qrow staggering back. Of a cane swishing through the air.

“Settle down, both of you!” The third voice stepped in. “You know that wasn’t necessary, James.”

“Every day we don’t have people out in the field is another day that _Salem_ has to prepare! To plan!” Ironwood erupted, sharp and harsh, “If we lose track of another Maiden - !”

“We won’t.” That third voice cut through. “Amber is safe. Freya is safe.”

Ironwood sighed. “We need more allies.”

“Which is why we shouldn’t be at each other’s throats.”

“Tell your Special Operatives, then.” Qrow snarled. “Bring them on board.”

The room was silent at Qrow’s suggestion. Clover frowned to himself, confused and surprised. Bring him on board to what…?

“I thought you didn’t like my Special Operatives, Qrow.” James’ frown – _Ironwood’s_ frown – could be heard in his words.

Qrow scoffed. “I’ve met one. Down in Patch. I don’t know about your other little soldiers, but I trust him, Jimmy.”

“How do you know one of my men?”

Qrow scoffed. “Maybe you should ask him yourself.”

Clover hung up, his heart suddenly pounding. He shouldn’t have heard any of that, he shouldn’t have been listening in. What _was_ all that? Who was Salem? And if the General was so concerned about them… why hadn’t he told Clover? Was it something that only became a threat after his injury?

What was a “Maiden”? That sounded important. Other special agents? A sector that Clover wasn’t privy to?

The questions swam in his head as he stared down at the scroll, barely noticing the looming presence behind him. At least, not until her hands gripped his shoulders in delight. “CLOVER!”

Clover jumped out of his skin, Yang yelped, and they all turned to see Elm happily standing behind her Captain.

“Elm, for gods’ sake - !” He laughed and stood up, only to be squeezed into an enthusiastic hug that lifted him off his feet.

“Oh, it’s SO good to see you again! I almost didn’t recognize you in such baggy clothes!” Elm’s laugh was fruity, bold. Elm in general fit that description too. “Why didn’t you say you were in Atlas?!”

“Elm. Back. Hurts.”

“OH MY GOSH I am so so sorry!” She put Clover down, guilt setting into her face. “Did I break you?!”

“No, just… easy on the hugs.” He rubbed his back. She hadn’t actually hurt him, but he wasn’t a fan of being lifted into the air so suddenly, so casually. He figured he’d earned the right to use the “my back hurts” excuse.

“Oh of course! When did you…?” She glanced around at the two confused girls, and her eyes lit up like carnival lights. “OH BROTHERS! What sweet little girlies! I didn’t know you had babies!”

“He’s not my dad!” Yang pointed at Clover before he had the chance to explain. “He’s just a guy who kisses my uncle too much!”

Elm erupted into laughter, putting a hand on her belly. “Ooh, so you’ve found yourself a boyfriend down in Vale, hm?” She shoved Clover, who suddenly wanted to hide away into his hoodie. “Tell me all about him! About these two cuties!”

Ruby nuzzled into Yang, hiding away from the woman as she sat with them, clearly adoring the two children.

“Elm, this is Ruby and Yang. Girls, this is Elm, one of my colleagues.”

“More like buddies! Ignore what Harriet says!” She waved him off. “Oh, Marrow would love to meet you two! Are you on holiday, then?”

Ruby chewed on her pacifier, tilting her head at Elm curiously. Yang put her arms around her sister. “My Uncle Qrow took us here so Clover can get his eyeballs taken out by a doctor.”

“What is with you and eyeballs lately?” Clover looked over at Yang. “Just a check-up to see what’s going on with my back. It’s healing fine.”

“Oh wonderful! We can’t wait to have you back on the team!” Elm nodded happily, and Clover wished he could feel happy about that.

“Speaking of which… what are you doing here in uniform? Are you on a mission?”

“Just took a break. I wanted to get a quick cup of something – and I’m glad I did! Why didn’t you tell us you were back in Atlas?!”

“We won’t be staying for too long, just a few days.” He explained.

“A few days?!” We’ll have to all meet up for dinner before you leave then!” Elm put her hand on Clover’s shoulder. “We’ve missed you, Clover. And besides, I want to meet your lovebird!”

Clover chuckled, before his scroll rang. Qrow. “Speaking of lovebird… mind if I take this?”

Elm waved him away and he answered, shifting in his seat. “Hey Qrow. How’d it go?”

“Ugh. It… it went.” Qrow sighed. Clover bit his bottom lip. Should he say he heard? Not yet, not in front of the girls and definitely not in front of Elm. If the Captain wasn’t allowed this intel, he doubted the other Ace Ops’ members would be informed. “I’m just leaving now. Where are you?”

Clover told him the name of the café, and once they hung up he turned back to the group.

“Aw, you didn’t tell him you loved him!” Elm shoved him again playfully.

“Shush.” Clover rolled his eyes, and Elm began to ask the girls about school, about nursery. Of course, Yang managed to steer the conversation towards dinosaurs eventually.

It was only five minutes before Qrow arrived; Clover expected him to be a lot longer to walk all the way from… well, he could only assume Ironwood’s office. The café door slid open swiftly, and Yang bolted out of her seat to hug her uncle’s leg with Ruby following close behind. Elm grinned and stood up before Clover got a chance to. The confusion bordering on fright that flashed over Qrow’s face when the woman approached him was funny enough to photograph.

“YOU must be the lovely uncle I’ve been hearing all about!” She grabbed his hand and shook his entire arm.

“Uh….?” He looked over at Clover for help, who came over to introduce them all.

“Elm!” Ruby pointed to Elm, happy to have remembered her name.

Elm, upon realising this, looked close to tears. “She _knows_ me now!” She scooped Ruby up, who giggled happily, but the panic on Qrow’s face was very real. Clover put a quick hand on his boyfriend’s shoulder before the panic lingered, not wanting the happy scene to sour.

“Don’t worry, love, this is one of my colleagues. She’s fine.” He explained with a smile. “Elm, this is Qrow, my boyfriend.”

He definitely noticed the little flutter of pink on Qrow when Clover finally said it out loud, and a swell of warmth rose in his heart. _Yes_ , Qrow _was_ his boyfriend, and nobody else’s.

“You have the most adorable nieces! And so clever too! This one could be a dino-expert when she grows up!” She gestured to Yang who was still clinging to her uncle.

“No! I’m gonna be a Huntress when I grow up!” Yang responded firmly, but that only made Elm happier.

“And a fine Huntress you’d be!” Her attention then went to her earpiece, which she held a hand to. “Yes? Hm. Right away.”

“Duty calls?” Clover asked as Elm passed Ruby to Qrow, who looked more than relieved to have her back.

“When doesn’t it?” She shrugged. “I didn’t even get a drink after all!” She marched to the door and waved. “I will be in touch, Captain! Don’t be a stranger now!”

And with that, Elm was gone, back out into the cold fresh air of Atlas.

“Sorry about that,” Clover led a somewhat frazzled Qrow over to the table, realizing he’d not got the chance to say a single thing to Elm, “she’s quite… enthusiastic.”

“Well, that’s one word you could use.” Qrow sank into his chair, letting Ruby stay on his lap.

“Easy.” Clover chuckled.

“How was the appointment? Everything go okay?” Qrow looked over at Clover. He looked tired. “Did these two give you any trouble?”

“No, we were good!” Yang protested. “We met a nice old lady and she was very nice.”

“She liked my eyes.” Ruby pointed to herself. “Silver.”

Qrow seemed to hesitate for a moment, like he wanted to say something, but instead he just smiled. “Like your mother’s.” Then he turned back to Clover. “Any problems with your back?”

“All good, actually. Better than expected.” He left out the part about returning home. He didn’t want to talk about that just yet. He wanted to enjoy his time with Qrow just a bit longer.

Qrow nodded. “Good. Please don’t ask me how the meeting went.”

Clover hid his concern behind a chuckle. Salem. Maidens. Freya. Amber. He felt he should be expecting a call from Ironwood soon.

But for now, he simply wanted to spend some time here, in that moment, not having to worry about the state of the world.

He wanted to be a civilian for just a little longer.


	18. Chapter 18

Clover did eventually manage to convince Qrow not to bundle the girls in _as many_ layers of clothes. His heart was of course in the right place, and the air of Atlas was crisp at best, but neither Yang nor Ruby could move properly with how bundled up Qrow was making them. Luckily, the weather was remarkably pleasant out in the snow parks and hills – it wasn’t even too windy that day. The snow was deep but soft like cotton, crunching like autumn leaves under their feet with each step. Pure white with just a hint of blue reflected in the right light laid over the plains like a crystalized foil, and the girls were delighted. Yang chased Ruby in circles around Clover and Qrow until the perfect snow was trampled down. Of course, the summery nature of Patch didn’t require them to have sleds, so Qrow had got them both a sled each from a nearby vacation store. “You sure it’s safe…?” Qrow put down one of the bigger sleds at the top of a hill so shallow it hardly felt higher above ground level. Nonetheless, Yang and Ruby clambered into the sled together, Yang sitting at the back and cuddling Ruby like a teddy.

Clover could only laugh. “I can’t see how it could be any safer – we’re barely on an anthill.”

Qrow rolled his eyes, and when the girls were settled into the sled, he gave it a push and watched as the sled rolled down the snowy slope. But the flatness of the “hill” didn’t seem to bother the girls; they went down howling and laughing all the way down. The sled hadn’t even stopped before Yang was twisting around to look up at her uncle with big excited eyes. “AGAIN!”

Clover watched as Qrow jogged down the hill to the happy children. Once again, he was wearing something of Clover’s – a long navy jacket with white accents running through it. Maybe it was infatuation or something better, but Clover was starting to love seeing Qrow in his things. He looked _good_. Clover admired him from the top of the hill until Qrow pulled the sled back up, both girls giggling happily.

“Oh you just stand there, lucky charm,” Qrow waved at him sarcastically and snapping Clover out of his daydream, “I’ll do all the heavy lifting.”

“Ah – I..!” Clover blinked and went over to the group, a little guilty pang of guilt going through his chest.

But Qrow only laughed softly. “Easy, I’m only pulling your leg. Besides,” the girls shuffled forward so he could sit at the back with them, “I wouldn’t want to put your back out.”

“My back isn’t that fragile.” Not anymore, at least.

“No, but… you might need all the strength you have for later.” Qrow smirked, watching with delight at the way Clover raised an eyebrow, the way colour bloomed in his cheeks.

“I don’t have a clue what you mean.” Clover hunched down for a kiss.

“Come on!” Yang tugged on Qrow’s sleeve. “We don’t have all day!”

“ _Yeah_ , Clover,” Qrow pecked the corner of Clover’s mouth, “hurry up, will ya?” 

Clover shook his head and began pushing the sled until it was sliding down once again, faster thanks to the added weight. Qrow had insisted on untucking his precious cape, so now a wave of torn crimson fluttered behind the sled as they descended. The rest of the morning was like that, staying out in the snow, letting the girls experience it for what was probably the first time in their memories. Qrow refused to go down anything steeper than the curve they started, out of fear of making anything go wrong – Clover simply couldn’t persuade him, no matter what he tried. But he didn’t want to make it a big deal didn’t want to push Qrow too hard over something so inconsequential, so when the girls asked, Clover went on the sled rides with them. It turned out Ruby, usually such a quiet little thing in class, was making just as much of a racket all the way down as her big sister, cackling and giggling and even screeching. Clover laughed along, holding them both close and keeping his legs on either side of the sled like barriers.

He could never forget the way the cold air felt in his lungs, the way it brushed through his hair in great waves and the freeing freshness of it all. But then, as they finally got to the bottom of one snowy knoll, Clover looked out at the vast snowfields. Pure white as far as the eye could see, interrupted only by the dark line of an old road in the distance. Above, the fusion of greys and blue welcomed the scattered glow of golden sunbeams. It was… awfully familiar.

Clover saw Atlas airships in the distance, and for a brief moment, he thought he tasted blood in the back of his mouth. He thought he felt the wetness on the front of his uniform freezing and sticking to his chest. He thought he saw golden eyes flashing to purple, and a scathing laugh.

“Clover?” Yang tugged on his sleeve.

Clover crashed back down to reality, and he looked down at the confused girl, her head tilted to the side. “Everything alright?” Qrow joined them, the mere sight of him alleviating at least some of the dread that Clover suddenly noticed was wedged in his chest. “You zoned out for a good while.”

He swallowed and tried to relax. It was okay. He was okay. “I’m fine, this…” He glanced back out at the tundra, not noticing the careful way Qrow watched him. “This place just brings back some memories.”

“Memories? Of what?” Yang asked before Qrow scooped her up.

“Probably of a time when we didn’t have to deal with little brats like you.” He grinned as he held Yang like a barrel over his shoulder. “Come on, we’re not staying here all day.”

Both the girls complained, whining and groaning. Clover smiled, quiet relief settling the weight in his chest, and he followed his boyfriend’s footprints in the snow marred only by the tracks of the sled. Ruby looked out once they got back up the hill, out at the view. She beamed and pointed excitedly to the airships. “Pretty ship.”

“Very pretty,” Clover smiled as he picked her up, letting the tiny child get a better view of the sky, “maybe one day you’ll be on a big ship like that, off to fight all the Grimm in the world.”

Ruby looked up at Clover with huge silvery eyes, wide with excitement. He thought back for a moment to what that old woman had said in the clinic – Ruby’s eyes really weren’t like any others he’d ever seen. He’d occasionally seen people with light eyes, even grey, but hers were just different. They were like pools of glittering mercury swirling around little dots of void-black pupils. Melted metal, shining in the light. They were truly something else.

Yang banged on her uncle’s shoulder with little fists. “We’re both gonna be the bestest! They’ll make ships just us! One for me and one for Ruby.”

“And one for Ladybug?” She looked worried, her little voice pulling again at Clover’s heartstrings.

“Yeah! In fact, we’ll make a ship for all of us!” Yang nodded firmly, but Ruby just clung to Clover’s hoodie, not willing to let him put her down again. He sighed and patted her head, shifting the knitted hat that covered most of her hair.

“Alright, alright. Airships and tanks for everyone.” Qrow rolled his eyes as he plopped Yang down onto her sled. “Ruby, last one.”

Ruby shook her head and buried her face into Clover’s chest, making him blink in surprise. “Go on, Ruby.” He coaxed, but she just clung to the bright green drawstrings of the hoodie.

“Qrow-Qrow can go with Yang.”

Qrow frowned. “I don’t really like sledding, sweetie. Why don’t you go with your sister?”

But now the thought was in Yang’s head, and she gripped Qrow’s leg with a vengeance. “How can you not like sledding?! Please do this one with me! Please, please, please!”

“I could go if you want to.” Clover suggested.

“No! I want Uncle Qrow!”

“Don’t be rude, Yang!” Qrow crossed his arms, but Yang clung tightly to his knee.

“…One won’t hurt.” Clover said softly to him, but Qrow looked apprehensive. “Nothing’s happened so far. So long as you’re with me…”

His smile seemed to slowly convince Qrow, and he eventually sighed and wriggled his leg free of Yang’s grip. “Alright, alright. One ride and then we’re going to get lunch.”

“Yaaay!” Yang cried.

“Luuuunch!” Ruby replied.

Clover chuckled as he finally managed to put the girl down, and once Qrow was in the sled he pushed them down the first slope of the hill. The hill was a bit steeper than the others, but Yang’s happy cries seemed to soothe Qrow’s worry.

Until the front of the sled hit a rock hidden by the snow.

The sled halted, jerking forward violently, and Qrow was flung off it with such force it was almost comical.

“ _Shit_!” Clover’s heart jerked and he scooped up Ruby to run down the hill, grabbing the end of the sled before it could resume its descent. Yang had, thankfully, been able to cling to the sled while her uncle tumbled down the rest of the hill, covered in snow once he’d finally reached the bottom.

Clover’s heart was pounding as he carried everything down to the bottom, kneeling by Qrow to help him. Qrow wiped himself down miserably. “Uncle Qrow?!” Yang held the hem of his jacket once Clover set the girls down.

“Gods, are you alright?” Clover looked him up and down, swiftly checking him over. The ground was soft, the ice miraculously softened by the sheet of snow. Qrow was, in truth, not hurt, but the way Clover fawned over him made him feel warm. He couldn’t resist. He pretended to wince and clutch his head, and Clover put an arm around him in concern, running his fingers gently through Qrow’s hair to check for any bumps or scrapes. It was mean, but being molly-coddled was something Qrow seldom got and he had to make the most out of it.

“I’ll be fine, really.” Qrow tried not to grin as he knelt down to check if Yang was alright.

Clover sighed. “I shouldn’t have told you to…”

“Hey, easy there, lucky charm. You didn’t tell me to do anything.” He picked up both the girls, one in each arm. “You’ll have to do a lot more to get me to take orders from _you_.”

Clover’s worry ebbed away to relief. Qrow would be the type to flirt on his damn deathbed – but Clover wasn’t complaining.

When Clover mentioned a café, Qrow had expected a relatively little place with coffee and sandwiches… you know, a café. Not the huge eatery Clover had taken them to. The walls of the place were a thick wood, incredibly dark and rich, the colour of black coffee. There were pits crackling with fire dust dotted around, and a circular bar right in the middle of the room. A waitress guided them over to a vacant spot nestled between a stone fireplace and a window looking out at the mountains. It was picturesque, and Qrow was surprised by the comfort. He didn’t know places in Atlas even knew comfort was an option, so set the place seemed in prioritising efficiency and advancement.

The waitress turned on a mini pit in the centre of the table, and little chunks of deep red dust sparked to life, creating a fire so little it could be held in one hand. Better than a candle, Qrow supposed. “A bit excessive for lunch, isn’t it…?” He looked around.

Clover shrugged. “The hot chocolate here is the best in Atlas – at least, I think so anyway.”

“Can I have marshmallows for lunch?” Yang asked, looking through the holographic menu that flickered above the fire.

“No.” Qrow gave her a look. “I want you to have actual food.”

Yang groaned, and Clover smiled as he flicked through the blue screen until they arrived at the hot chocolate page. There were multiple kinds – white, dark, pink, milk, caramel, vanilla, all with different toppings and sizes. Marshmallows were of course a staple – made from scratch at the bar, according to the menu – but there were chocolate shavings, animal-shaped wafers, straws, flakes, sprinkles. One even came with a cheap little toy of a Nevermore nestled into the whipped cream, and of course that was the one Yang begged to have.

Qrow thought most sweet things were too sickly, so he stuck with a coffee, and of course there was an entire page dedicated to the different beans, the level of grinding, the type of milk and sugar. It felt like he was taking a personality quiz just flicking through the options and reading the descriptions.

Yang’s Grimm-tastic drink came along first; a large cup designed more for an ice cream sundae than a drink, the inside lined with edible red and yellow glitter. The drink was a swirl or dark and white hot chocolate, with a mountain of vanilla cream so potent she could see the little black dots of vanilla bean running through it. The Nevermore toy was sprinkled with icing powder, and squidged atop the charred remains of a handful of white and pink marshmallows. She’d never looked more pleased in her life.

Ruby’s drink was a lot smaller; a round bowled cup of milky hot chocolate, with a mixture of squirty cream and chocolate cream running across the surface in stripes of brown and white. Thin slices of an adorably tiny strawberry sat atop the cream, each slice sugared and topped with a little swirl of white chocolate. A red straw poked out from the side, and the saucer was lined with delicate dipping cookies. She nibbled happily on a cookie, dunking it into the striped cream until the biscuit became soggy.

Qrow ordered a coffee. Just a coffee.

Clover suspected Qrow might, so he ordered a fusion drink – a simple, thick hot chocolate with strong notes of coffee running through it. A bit of a reverse mocha, really. It was one of the café’s specialty drinks, a traditional one made from whole milk and melted chocolate. “Try some,” he held out his cup to Qrow, “it’s more rich than it is sweet.”

Qrow sighed, taking the cup from Clover and holding it with both hands. Clover tried not to watch him, not wanting to be rude, but he found a quiet beauty in the way Qrow breathed in the scent wafting from the drink, the way he brought the rim of the cup to his lips and sipped. He stilled for a moment, before smiling. “That _is_ nice.”

“It’s one of my favourites.” He took the cup back, before noticing a droplet of chocolate still remaining on the corner of Qrow’s lips. “Ah, hold still; you got something on you.”

“I can get it…” Qrow didn’t have time to grab a napkin before Clover leaned over and licked the corner of Qrow’s mouth, casualness that almost bordered on languid. He stayed close as Qrow stilled again, watching the colour bloom in his boyfriend’s cheeks. Clover knew damn well it would have that affect on him, even anticipated it. Qrow looked adorable like that, startled and pink in the face. They were so close now, and Clover went in for a quick kiss.

But Yang and Ruby had been watching, and before Clover’s lips could meet Qrow’s, Yang grabbed her little sister’s face and smushed her tongue against poor Ruby’s cheek.

Ruby screamed.

“Hey – hey! Quit that!” Qrow reached over the table and forced the two girls apart. But Ruby scrambled around his hand and smacked her hand into Yang’s drink, sending vanilla cream and the plastic Nevermore flying over the table. Clover just managed to stop the toy from being flung straight into the pit of activated fire dust. “ _Ruby_!”

“No licking!” She squealed.

“Fine! No licking, no hitting, and grabbing! Don’t even look at each other!”

Qrow had to wipe the cream off the table before finally sitting down, before casting a sarcastic glare at Clover. “Look what you started.”

“That wasn’t my fault!” Clover chuckled, handing Yang her Nevermore toy.


	19. Chapter 19

The day had been a good one, Clover thought. They’d gone to dinner and spent the rest of the evening playing video games with the kids.

 _The kids_. Clover chuckled; it almost sounded like they were his. His and Qrow’s… now that was a wild thought. But it brought a smile to his face. He stood in the shower and thought over the last few days, the last few months, even. When he’d gotten to Patch, he’d been so bored. His life felt stagnating while he healed. But as soon as he met Qrow, he was in a whirlwind. The women at the nursery, the little ones, Qrow himself… suddenly he had friends. Suddenly he had a routine. Suddenly he had…

Was it too early to say love? Would that be weird? Things had gone admittedly quick between them, and he didn’t want to jump the gun, didn’t want to push things too fast. He didn’t want this flame to fizzle out.

But the more Clover thought of it, the more he let himself sit back and explore that warmth he got in his chest when Qrow was with him… Clover had only been in love once or twice in his life, and evidently they’d never lasted. Whenever a flame like this sparked up, it seemed, Clover put it on the backburner for the sake of his job, for the sake of Atlas. And there that flame would stay, and he wouldn’t even notice it had extinguished until he’d finally turned back to it too late.

But this wasn’t just a flame. This was a bonfire in his chest. This was warmth, heat, light and sunbeams filling up the space in his ribs, flittering in through the segmented metal of his back. He still remembered the General’s words – ‘ _It’s freezing; you get used to it’_ – but that coldness was something he noticed less and less now.

It was only two days so far, but the longer he spent in Atlas, the more he began to understand what all this was. The snowfields weren’t as comforting anymore, not when he only remembered blood every time he looked out at them. Each time he looked up at the airships, he still felt pride, but also dread. Truthfully, he was scared of the blackness creeping back into the corners of his eyes, the terrifying numbness.

Clover didn’t want his home to remind him of fear. He didn’t want to _feel_ fear. He didn’t want to be weak. He was still the Captain of the Ace Operatives, he shouldn’t feel _this_. It was shameful to be afraid, after everything else he had gone through.

But it didn’t matter if it was shameful, or if he didn’t want this feeling. He was still afraid.

Clover sighed as he washed his hair, rubbing the scent of the shampoo into his locks. Tea tree and green apple filled the steamy cubicle, and he sucked down a long breath, filling his lungs with hot air. He tried to soothe himself, and with his concentration so focused he almost didn’t notice the cubicle door sliding open and shut.

“You’re taking your time, lucky charm.”

Clover jumped a little at Qrow’s voice, but was stilled by the feeling of those pale arms wrapping around his chest. His breath hitched when he felt Qrow hold him so, his chest pressed into his back, the feeling of his –

He was naked. He was _naked_.

“Are they asleep?” Clover tried to even out his voice, tried not to make it obvious that his heart was pounding a thousand beats a minute. Qrow’s skin was smooth, cool to the touch. He could feel muscles, could feel a shiver running through Qrow as the water hit him. Clover swallowed hard and prayed for an evening without interruptions.

“Of course – and _actually_ asleep this time.” Qrow smiled, kissing the nape of Clover’s neck, brushing his lips up the hot wet skin until he was nibbling Clover’s jaw. Clover couldn’t see that he had to stand on his toes to reach from where he stood. “I’ve been waiting for you, Clover.”

Clover shivered at the way Qrow breathed his name, that rich huskiness that allowed a new heat to seep into his skin, and he glanced back at Qrow with his own smile. “I’m sorry, love,” he took Qrow’s hands in his and kissed each palm, revelling in how Qrow’s fingers flexed and stroked down his face, “how could I make it up to you…?”

Qrow’s chuckle was gravelly, deep in the bottom of his throat. He reluctantly pulled his hands from Clover’s and ran them down that tanned, proudly toned body. He was eager to flatten his kissed palms against his lover’s abs, leaving them settled against hip bones that hinted at the pronounced V-line. Qrow had seen him topless – hell, he’d seen Clover in nothing but a towel at that point. But this was different. This was unexplored territory he’d been desperate to get into. To get to caress the expanse of warm skin, _feel_ it twitch and sweat under his touch. To press himself into the curve of Clover’s form. Qrow found he fit into Clover quite well.

One pale hand swept around Clover’s hip, ghosting over the dimples in Clover’s lower back – Qrow found them so cute – and his fingers began to delicately chase up Clover’s spine, feeling the metal connecting with the skin. When he felt Clover tense, he tried to comfort him with another kiss on his shoulder. “I think it’s incredible.” He said softly, tracing over the scarred skin where the organic met the mechanical.

“That’s not the word I’d use…” Clover turned to gaze at Qrow, “…but thank you.”

“How is it not?” Qrow rested his chin on Clover’s shoulder. “They recreated your _spine_. You wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for that.” He hesitated for a moment, before smiling as he decided to voice his thoughts. “I never would have met you if they couldn’t…”

And at that, Clover turned and kissed Qrow. It was sudden, it was passionate, it was tender; it took the words out of Qrow’s mouth, and he just melted into the Captain. It was wonderful being wrapped up in Clover’s arms, the hot water cascading over them both, the cubicle acting as their little hiding space. He wanted to stay like this for the rest of the night, giving Clover reign of his mouth, feeling his lover’s hot tongue running over his own. He liked how Clover ran his tongue over Qrow’s bottom lip so slowly, how he ran his hands through the messy locks of black hair, lingering on one or two plaits that Qrow hadn’t combed out yet. He liked how Clover took his time exploring him, studying him, _knowing_ him.

Clover pushed Qrow into the cold tiled wall, eliciting the sweetest sound from his boyfriend. A quiet chuckle and a surprised moan meeting in the middle and slipping off Qrow’s tongue before Clover had a chance to kiss him again. It was exhilarating, pressing into Qrow like this, getting to finally have free reign over the expanse of warm wet skin. He ran his hands down Qrow’s sides, watching the way his back arched at the touch, and Clover’s hands settled on his hips with a squeeze. “Are you ticklish there…?” Clover breathed, ghosting his thumbs at the bottom of Qrow’s ribs.

“Don’t… please.” Qrow grimaced and glanced to the side, and Clover chuckled, feeling relatively merciful. So he only nodded and dipped his head down, kissing Qrow’s shoulder and moving up his neck. He hadn’t realised how much he’d been yearning to nibble that stubbled jawline until he finally was, how much he craved Qrow until he was right before him, naked and dripping wet and so, so beautiful. He was pale, had such divine alabaster skin that was uninterrupted throughout his form save for the occasional scar. He couldn’t even spot a single freckle over the vastness of Qrow. A fresh fluster turned him pink, as it always did, but now Clover got to see it throughout. Got to see the way it ran over his abs, down his long legs, marvelled at the way it drew colour to his shoulders, his collarbone. All of Qrow was brilliant, bright. Delectable.

A moan escaping Qrow’s lips brought Clover back to reality, and he bit down on his lover’s sensitive pulse line. A shaky gasp ushered its way out of Qrow, and he tilted his head in approval to give Clover better access to him. And how could Clover resist such an invitation?

Trails of bitemarks soon ran over Qrow’s neck, a map of purple and red going over his shoulders and throat, marking him. That was wanted Clover wanted; for Qrow to be _his_. For Qrow to want to be his. He wanted to show the marks to all of Remnant. All the while, Qrow’s hands went over Clover’s sides, his chest, over his muscular arms. Gripping him with excitement, rubbing into the dimples of Clover’s lower back until Clover was rolling his hips into him, and that was when the real fun began.

Clover was truly captivated by the sight of Qrow’s cock, his fairness making the pink of the head look even more flushed, and beads of creamy white began to form the more his neck was nibbled and bit at. Clover _salivated_.

“Are you going to stare in wonder all day?” Qrow panted, pulling Clover just that little bit closer, “or are you going to do something about it?”

“Well aren’t you impatient?” Clover chuckled, before gripping Qrow’s thighs in a way that made his lover gasp. He loved the resistance of muscle when he clamped his hands around the blushed flesh. And as Qrow’s tongue found its way back against Clover’s lips, his pale legs were pulled apart. Clover seemed to fit well in the space between Qrow’s long legs, like he was meant to be there. He loved the way Qrow moaned into his mouth, hungry and eager, but when he reached behind and pressed his fingers into his lover’s tailbone, intent on dipping lower, Qrow stopped him.

He held Clover’s wrist tightly and nibbled on his bottom lip with a hint of a tease. “Oh no, lucky charm. You’re not getting a full show tonight.”

“Now you’re just being cruel.” Clover smirked, withdrawing his hand. But what he had already was so much more than anything he’d dreamed of. To be able to touch Qrow, to feel the way his body moved, to see what he hid under his tauntingly tight clothes; he was content with this.

“Oh come on, I’m sure you can come up with something else. You don’t want me to think all that military training went to waste, do you…?” He tilted his head just right to gaze up at Clover from under pitch black lashes. Coquettish. _Coy_.

Clover smirked as he reached between Qrow’s legs, and gave his lover a squeeze that knocked whatever quip he’d lined up straight out of his mind. He loved the way Qrow’s eyes widened, before the haze of lust stripped him of rational thought. He wanted to know exactly what he could do to get Qrow keening, to get him moaning and shaking and even begging. But he was a patient man; he’d find out all the secrets Qrow’s body held, with time. For now, Clover just wanted to keep him sweet, keep him sated. And keep him wanting more.

He eagerly pushed his own cock up against Qrow’s and rolled his hips _just right_ , and Qrow buckled just that little bit into Clover. And gods, he looked perfect like that. When that cockiness of his just began to melt into something shy, something wanton, he looked sweet enough to eat. “You’re big,” Qrow panted with just a hint of timidity, his breath scorching against Clover’s ear, his heart pounding with such force he was certain his lover could feel it. It was all he could do to wrap his arms around Clover’s broad shoulders and let the man touch him the way he’d been desperate for since… since forever, it felt like.

And Clover wanted Qrow to ache for him like this. He wanted Qrow to become unravelled before him. He shifted his hips to create just enough space for his hand to fit between, and he gripped them both assuredly. Qrow’s head dipped back as he groaned, biting his bottom lip, and what a sight he was like that. Clover seized his mouth again, needing to taste him, to run his tongue over every inch of _wet_ that he could reach. He just adored how Qrow melted into those kisses, as if he were starved of such affection. If that was the case, then clover was sure to smother him in it until that hunger was satisfied. He squeezed them both together, revelling in the heat it caused, the ripples of pleasure that spread like a fog through his loins and ran up his spine. In the back of his mind, he felt a little impressed that the prosthetic was able to carry that. He was also a little grossed out that the designers and surgeons even thought of that.

He tried not to think of it, tried not to ruin the pleasure. So he chose to focus on Qrow instead, on how his back arched as Clover dragged his hand up their lengths, creating the most incredible friction. Qrow moaned and moaned, gazing at Clover through half-lidded eyes. Such a lazy, needy expression that Clover couldn’t resist to feed. The next kiss was fervent, dominating, as Clover began stroking them properly. It wasn’t long before Qrow hooked a long leg over Clover’s hip, pressing the sole of his foot into Clover’s ass to drag him closer. Clover chuckled breathlessly. “Is that your way of asking me to go faster?”

“It’s my way of _telling_ you, lucky charm.” His skin was several lovely shades of pink by then; he was consumed by the lingering scents of their sweat, their lust. The shampoo and cologne Clover used was becoming his sole reason for breathing, the darkness of yearning dipping into Clover’s soothing teal eyes became Qrow’s sole reason for keeping his own eyes open. Clover shook his head and used his free hand to hold Qrow’s leg up, hooking his palm under his lover’s knee. Their bodies blocked much of the hot water from trailing between them, leaving the pool of precum and sweat to drip from Clover’s fingers uninterrupted.

“I don’t much appreciate that tone, Branwen,” he winked, slowing his hand to a pace that frustrated him but _infuriated_ Qrow, making it absolutely worth it. After, he flicked the sensitive tip of Qrow’s leaking dick with his thumb, and the most delicious tremble went through Qrow’s legs. Clover gave Qrow’s thigh an evil squeeze, and he smirked, “I want you to ask nicely.”

“D-don’t be a bastard.” Qrow panted, glancing down between them. He hadn’t lied earlier; Clover was _big_. Bigger than his baggy joggers led Qrow to believe (and he had looked). He didn’t possess just an impressive length either – he was thick, and Qrow… well, Qrow had very narrow hips. He wondered how it would feel in him, how much it would stretch him, that incredible heat… he was half-tempted to just let Clover fuck him then and there. He’d have been more so inclined if Clover wasn’t _teasing_ him.

“How can I resist when you’re so perfect?” Clover whispered, rubbing his thumb into Qrow’s cock until he was squirming and desperately trying to shift away. But he was pressed between the Captain and the shower wall; there was nowhere to escape to. All Qrow could do was take what Clover gave him… but he wasn’t complaining. He found he quite liked when Clover complimented him, praised him… it was new. “You’re too pretty when you’re on edge… I’d keep you like this forever if I could.”

“Shut up, just…” Qrow glanced away, his face somehow getting redder as his body ached in frustration, desperation. Clover’s voice… it did something to Qrow. Especially when it was like this, breathless and smug, bordering on a growl that made Qrow’s heart flutter and his toes curl.

“I want to hear you say it,” Clover nibbled on Qrow’s earlobe, “you’d sound so good asking nicely.”

“Clover…”

“Give me what I want,” he offered quietly, “and I’ll give you what you like.”

Qrow groaned, his hips moving of their own accord, wanton, his body already asking before he could bring himself to. It would usually take so much more than this to get him to beg but… this was Clover. “…please, Cloves.” He breathed, and heard his lover’s wonderful chuckle in response.

“That’ll do.” He kissed Qrow’s stubbly cheek in satisfaction, and moved his free hand behind Qrow and down his back, trailing inch by inch until his fingers dipped between his ass cheeks and probed his entrance lightly.

Qrow gasped and tried shifting away, his body naturally clenching at the touch. “I said don’t…!”

“I’m not going to, I promise,” he reassured Qrow, pulling his fingers away, “I just want to touch you.”

Qrow huffed breathlessly, but leaned on Clover and ran his hands through his lover’s hair. “Warn me next time, lucky charm.”

Clover smiled, nuzzling into Qrow as he started up again. He couldn’t help but speed up with his hand, running his thumb over Qrow’s weeping tip and grinding his hips into his lover until there were stars in Qrow’s eyes. He kept his free hand at his ass, rolling the calloused pads of his fingers into that soft twitching flesh that he was desperate to bury himself into. And just like that, Qrow reach his peak in Clover’s arms. Clover crushed his lips into his lover’s before Qrow could cry out, his moans thankfully muffled by that. His nails dug into Clover’s back as every nerve in his body lit up with the ferocious heat, bursting with the sudden pleasure, and he dragged long red lines over Clover’s tanned skin.

Clover hissed into Qrow’s mouth, watching with bated breath as his lover spurted streams of white over his fingers. His face was perfect like that, his pale skin going red and his eyes nearly rolling back into his head. His jaw going slack, so shameless, so unreserved. Qrow leaned into him, trusting that Clover could hold him, and gave himself the luxury of snuggling into him, asking for that security he seldom was privy to. And Clover happily gave, wrapping his arms around Qrow like he was the most precious thing in the world. Gods, Qrow could happily die in that moment – or fall asleep, at the very least. But he was nothing if not dramatic.

But, as the ability to think, returned to him, he noticed a little problem. Well, hardly “little”, but…

“You didn’t cum.” He whispered against Clover’s shoulder, but Clover only laughed softly in response.

“How ever could we fix that…?” He stroked Qrow’s back, flashing him a cheeky grin. He was expecting a hand job or something along those lines; what he wasn’t expecting was for Qrow to dip down to his knees, kissing and nipping at his torso, his stomach, as he moved down.

Qrow nuzzled his head into Clover’s thigh, getting his to part his legs more, and Clover leaned over so Qrow wasn’t drenched by the shower head. Instead the water rolled over his back, stinging the fresh scratches Qrow had made, and he tried not to grimace as Qrow gazed up at him, complete oblivious. He looked coy, sweet almost, and his stubble scratched at Clover’s thighs as he nibbled and licked up the expanse of muscular skin.

Finally, he squeezed Clover’s thighs, and let his tongue flick over the tip of his lover’s hefty cock. He moaned quietly at the taste of heat and salt dribbling onto his tongue. He could smell the richness of it, mingling with the unique scent of _Clover_. That freshness, that comforting warmth, something manly and something addictive.

Clover let out a shaky breath as he leaned over, holding himself upright by leaning his forearms on the wall Qrow had just been pressed into minutes before. Qrow smirked, and wrapped his fingers around Clover’s length. Girthy, impressively so. He welcomed the tip into his mouth and sucked, giving the base a naughty squeeze that made Clover’s beefy thighs tremble. It made Qrow a little breathless, feeling him dripping into his mouth, watching the lust swimming in his oceanic eyes, darkening them into a haze of _want_.

Qrow was more than happy to give, taking him inch by inch, hollowing his cheeks as he began bobbing his head back and forth steadily against his lover’s lap. Qrow wanted to taste more of him, wanted to suck him down completely, but Clover was already so hard already… he looked ready to blow at any moment.

“You’re good at this…. fuck… _fuck_ …!” Clover shut his eyes, clenching his jaw.

Qrow could feel his lover’s thighs tense in his grip, and he pulled off to make a quip. But Clover gripped Qrow’s hair with a sudden urgency, holding him in place, and he came over Qrow. Hot white splattered over Qrow’s mouth, his cheeks, dripping down to his chest. He shut his eyes in shock, pulling against Clover’s grip.

Clover panted as Qrow licked his lips, wiping away at the splatter. “Messy.” He grumbled, but in truth he didn’t mind, in fact he quite enjoyed it. Clover blinked, and when his mind was finally able to process, well, anything, he let out a shaky breath.

“Shit… I didn’t mean to…”

“Don’t sweat it, lucky charm.” He glanced down at the long lines of creamy white trailing down his chest, only looking up when Clover was knelt by him with the shower in head one hand and a face cloth in the other. He reached for the cloth but Clover batted his hand away, insisting on cleaning up himself. It was a sweet gesture that Qrow honestly wasn’t expecting, so he had to hide his smile as he watched Clover sort him out. “I could get used to all this pampering.”

Instead of chuckling, Clover raised an eyebrow at him. “You call this pampering?”

“Tidying. Whatever.” Qrow rolled his eyes. “It’s cute.”

Clover just looked more confused, but he didn’t push. Instead, he let himself smile, and he pinched the tip of Qrow’s nose with the cloth. “You haven’t been pampered yet, love.”

Qrow batted Clover’s hand away lazily. “I like it when you call me that.”

“I’ll have to call you it more, then. It’s only… last time I smothered you with pet names, you stopped being able to function.” He chuckled.

“Last time, if I remember, you were only doing it to win a damn video game.”

Qrow gave him a look, and they chuckled together, too spent to carry on with the quips. It was as much as they could do to get out of the shower and get to bed. Had it not been so freezing, Qrow would have been tempted to sleep naked. But the cold felt harsher after such a steamy shower, so cold that Qrow couldn't help but check that the girls were warm enough before finally retiring into Clover’s bed, into Clover’s arms. He needed that.

It seems they both did.


	20. Chapter 20

The Atlas sky was infiltrated with airships. Prisoner cargo ships, military defence fleets. Black dots of nuclear destruction smearing the clouds, staining the light blue sky. Clover stared up at the azure, and he knew his heart was pounding, but he couldn’t feel it in his chest. It was definitely pounding _somewhere_ , but not where it was supposed to be, not tucked safely in his ribs. It was somewhere vulnerable, somewhere he couldn't protect it. He took a shaky breath, his eyes dragged down to the icy tundra, regardless of how badly he didn’t want them to.

The prisoner cargo truck was a smear of metal and gasoline and Dust spread unceremoniously over the pallid white ground. But no prisoner. Somewhere out in the tundra, Clover’s heart stopped.

He turned again; hills and knolls of melting snow. Yang and Ruby playing at the top. They were tinier than he recalled, small and delicate like little dolls, in need of protection – what were they doing there? He wanted to call out to them, but he couldn’t find the words. So he watched them, a few mere metres away from the crash. Yet both the girls acted utterly oblivious to it. 

They were just as unaware of the man stalking up the knoll to them. Long segmented tail swishing behind him, leaving a trail of venom that sizzled like acid on the untouched snow. He left no footprints where he walked. _Callows_. A big grin. Vacant eyes that went from yellow to toxic purple with a single murderous flash. Clover finally cried out, reached for them, but in that single moment Callows was gone.

And, with the arrival of black feathers, Clover’s chest was split in two again.

He gasped for breath; he could feel blood bubbling up his gullet and dripping from his mouth, but he couldn’t taste it. He couldn’t smell it… but he could feel it. And it wasn’t the metal he’d come to expect; swirls were engraved lovingly along the body of the blade… Harbinger.

Callows laughed, but his laughter seemed far away, swept off by the cold winds. Somehow, Clover knew it was him still, but he couldn’t see him. All he could see was the sky, nearly darkened by Atlas ships flying over him, corrupting, all-consuming. War. And black wings.

And Qrow.

Layers of ruffled black feathers framed his form, sprouting from somewhere under his torn red cloak, blacker even than the sky, than ink. He smiled sadly at Clover. “Bad luck.”

And Clover bolted upright in bed, sweat clinging to his skin like a film. He gulped down a sharp breath and, in the first moments of consciousness, found himself gripping the fabric of Qrow’s shirt until his knuckles turned white. His heart was a drum in his ears. He couldn’t think. He couldn’t.

“Cloves, Cloves it’s alright.” Qrow’s voice cut through just that little bit, a candle in the fog of panic. “You’re okay, I got you.”

He was drenched in sweat. The past few nights had been difficult – Clover had long since acclimatized to the brisk cold of Atlas, but Qrow was unable to deal with the sheer chill, especially at night. He cuddled up to Clover every night, even stole his hoodie. It was adorable and sweet and it made Clover’s heart swell… but having a giant hot water bottle clinging to him under thick covers was leaving him struggling to sleep and sticky in the least fun way. That, added with the way his heart boomed in his ribs, left his head spinning in moments of violent vertigo.

Clover panted, trying almost in vain to swallow down enough air to soothe his nerves and cool the burning crossing his skin. He managed to look up at Qrow’s face, his expression falling between concern and comfort. The dawn light filtered in through the blinds, leaving streams of delicate light illuminating stripes of pale skin, one beam hitting one of Qrow’s eyes and lighting up all the different shades of vermillion red and rosy pink flickering in the iris. Warmth. Homeliness. Something strong in those eyes that Clover had to cling to until he could finally breathe properly once again. Qrow stroked his cheek with a firm hand, a grounding grip, and Clover let himself crumble just that little bit.

“Qrow…” He breathed, his heart slowing as he became secure in the knowledge he was awake, this was real. This wasn’t the tundra and he was safe.

Qrow almost smiled. “You were whimpering.”

Clover stopped. _He_ was _whimpering_? That couldn’t be right. “No I wasn’t.”

“I heard you loud and clear.”

“I _wasn’t_ whimpering!” The words came out harsher than Clover had expected, and guilt rushed through him quicker than adrenaline when he felt Qrow withdraw his hand. He moved to put his own hand over Qrow’s apologetically. “Sorry, I’m sorry I… Bad dream.”

Qrow sighed softly, stroking his thumb along Clover’s cheekbone. “Wanna talk about it?”

“…Not really.” He admitted. He didn’t want to shut Qrow out, but he didn’t want to delve into that just yet. He wanted to forget it. He wanted to go back to sleep or start the day anew or do a _nything else_ than recall those images. Would Qrow be hurt by that…?

Apparently not, because Qrow simply shrugged and laid back down by Clover, shifting with a near automatic grace to nestle Clover’s head against his chest. Clover blinked in surprise, but enjoyed the affection. He could hear Qrow’s heartbeat, a clear and steady anchor to the waking world, could feel those long fingers roaming over his scalp, running between his hair in a way that sent the loveliest shivers down his spine. It helped him forget. “It’s okay… I get bad dreams too.”

Clover exhaled, and shut his eyes as he slung an arm around Qrow. He couldn’t help but smile just a touch as Qrow continued running his fingers through his hair, the touch feather-light and preening in nature. He found himself rubbing his thumbs into Qrow’s shoulder blades – where wings would be. Why wings? It was such a bizarre image when Clover really thought about it. Clover couldn’t say it made Qrow look angelic in that dream; they were huge, the feathers ruffled and the structure strong under the sheer black. It made him look less of a man and more some harbinger of death. He shook his head and banished the thought, and instead reminded himself of who Qrow really was by nuzzling closer to his chest, earning a light chuckle from his boyfriend.

“You’re not trying to tickle me, are you?” Qrow whispered.

“Wouldn’t _dream_ of it.” Clover smirked and moved up to kiss Qrow lightly.

Qrow’s scoff led into a chuckle, a low velvety rumble in his chest, one that Clover had fallen head over heels for. The kiss was broken before it could deepen any further, but truth be told they both found it more than wonderful to just lay together and wait for the sun to fully rise, for the day to officially start. To be nestled into Qrow’s form like this was more than he could ask for, the way his heartbeat lulled him into a stupor. It soothed him until the nightmare was little more than an afterimage, an outline of light that remains under your eyelids but fades with time. Neither of them were going to go back to sleep, Clover knew that, but it was nice to take the time to just lay there. To talk in languid whispers or simply listen to the way the other breathed.

Maybe Clover was a fool, maybe he was overconfident. Maybe he was sleep-deprived. It didn’t matter what was to blame, for he still allowed the question to form at the back of his throat and roll of his tongue into the quiet moment.

“Who’s Salem?”

The tenderness of the moment broke. Qrow unwound his arms swiftly from Clover, defensive, and he sat up. By now the morning light was bright, exposing. “Where did you hear that name?”

“Qrow…?” Clover began.

“ _Where_ did you hear that _name_ , Clover?” Qrow’s eyes narrowed. There was a hostility in him that Clover hadn’t seen before – at least, not directed at him. This was the look he’d flash a Grimm, and enemy.

Clover swallowed. “I heard… you called me the other day on your scroll. I don’t think you meant to. I heard you talking to the General.”

Qrow’s eyes flittered over Clover’s face, searching, silently scrutinising his features. He frowned. “What did you hear?”

“Not much. Something about that name, something about Maidens, I don’t…” He shifted to sit up. “I don’t know. I don’t know what any of this means.”

Qrow was quiet. He stared at Clover, unblinking. The air was thick between them, tangible, sticking in Clover’s gullet and filling up his lungs like sludge. He should have just hung up the scroll as soon as he realized it was an accident. But there were many things he should have done, there was no point in wishing for a different past.

Silence, and then, a sigh left Qrow’s lips. “Clover, this… this is big. And it’s classified.”

“That’s all you need to say.” Clover wanted desperately to drain the tension like an inflamed blister, but he didn’t know if he could. Did this have the power to put Qrow in jeopardy? To put himself in jeopardy?

Qrow shook his head, running his fingers through his hair before looking up at Clover with a much different expression than moments ago during the interrogation. This was imploring. “Can you do me a favour?”

“What?” Clover tried not to be hesitant.

Qrow shifted so he sat next to his boyfriend, his eyes staring straight into his. “Promise me you won’t tell James. You won’t tell your teams mates – nobody. Don’t even mention it to me again. Forget all of it. _Please_ , Clover.”

He felt a jerk in his chest. This was directly involving his boss – he didn’t keep secrets from the General. Whatever this was, it was important. What would happen to him if Ironwood found out he knew this little scrap of information? What would happen to Qrow? To the girls? He never withheld information from his boss, but the pleading look in Qrow’s eyes was something he couldn’t just brush aside. This was a clear conflict of interests, of Clover’s two worlds clashing.

Qrow? Or Ironwood? Qrow’s trust? Or his duties as an Ace-Op?

“My lips are sealed.” Clover assured Qrow, putting a hand over his. No turning back now.

Qrow finally breathed again, and flopped his forehead onto Clover’s shoulder with a low groan. Clover squeezed his hand, ran a thumb over a silver ring warmed by Qrow’s body heat. Clover only hoped that Qrow trusted him, that what he said brought some reassurance to the man.

Eventually, the sound of birds chirruping grew in volume by the window, along with the sound of the girls stirring down the hall.

“I should uh…” Qrow began, reluctantly withdrawing from Clover’s warmth, “I should get them up.”

Clover nodded, watching Qrow leave the bed for the door. He hesitated in the doorway for just a moment before he turned back to Clover. “Uhm… Cloves?”

“Yeah?” Clover watched him carefully. The long legs, the way he looked even more lithe under the baggy hoodie. Clover had gotten used to things simply existing on a touch-and-go basis in his life, from homes to missions to people. But this, this was something he didn’t want to lose. Couldn’t afford to lose. And when that thought crossed his mind, he found himself feeling a little less guilty at putting Ironwood to the side for the first time in his career.

That thought was only reassured by Qrow’s grateful smile. “Thank you, Clover.”


	21. Chapter 21

“Can’t we stay in Atlas?!” Yang hung off Qrow’s shoulder as he helped the girl pack – and by “help”, that meant he was doing all of it. Ruby hummed in agreement as she dangled from his torn cape, swishing each time he moved around the room. The ends of the cape poked out from the hoodie he’d unofficially stolen from Clover.

“Sorry, firecracker,” Qrow folded her clothes and laid them out in the suitcase while Clover “helped” pack Ruby’s suitcase, a big plastic one shaped like a sparkly rose. Yang’s was a similar size, only rectangular and decorated with sunflowers, “we have to go home tomorrow. Besides, if I stay here any longer I’ll turn into an icicle.”

“I can live with that.” Yang said in a deadpan tone, causing Qrow to look over his shoulder at her in surprise.

“Hey!” He reached around and grabbed the girl, holding her to his chest and tickling her until she yowled with laughter.

Clover chuckled as he watched them, closing Ruby’s suitcase.

Breakfast had been… understandably awkward that morning, but with the help of the girls chattering and causing their usual amount of havoc, things seemed to have settled into something a little more comfortable between him and Qrow. He watched Ruby valiantly crawl up her uncle’s leg in an attempt to save her sister, and smiled. He still had questions, of course he did. He was curious. But this wasn’t something he needed to know about. Since day one he – along with everyone else in the military - had been greatly discouraged from asking questions. They were given all the information they needed, nothing more.

But it had never stopped Clover from _wanting_ to ask. Who _was_ Salem? What was a Maiden? What was out there that Ironwood trusted Qrow with… but not him? He shouldn’t have felt the way he did, he knew that, and yet there was the strangest pang of unpleasantness in his chest when he thought about it. A flavour of dread, and almost a sliver of jealousy. _He_ was the Ace-Ops leader, not Qrow. Qrow was a top of the game Huntsman, but he was just that – a Huntsman. He wasn’t anything else… was he?

There came a light tuneful beep from the front door, and the two men shared a glance. Clover wasn’t expecting visitors. He stood up and shrugged, a reassuring smile on his face. “I bet Elm’s let my team know I’m back.”

“You mean the loud muscle lady?” Yang tilted her head, the rest of her body dangling haphazardly from Qrow’s arms.

Clover only laughed. “I’ll tell her you said that.”

“Nooooo!” Yang wriggled out of Qrow’s grip and followed Clover to the door like a duckling, ignoring her uncle’s calls back. Soon, Clover had an audience of two little ducklings at his feet as he opened the door to… a man he didn’t recognize.

He was one of the strangest looking men Clover had seen in a while. He was ageless, in a way, his hair the shade of white that only came with maturity, yet he had the face of a young man. He held a stylish cane, but didn’t seem to need it, as he didn’t lean any weight on it. And he looked well, healthy, but he dressed like an old man – at least, in Clover’s opinion.

The girls stayed behind Clover, cautious of the stranger. “Hello…?” Clover began.

The man went to open his mouth before Qrow put a hand on Clover’s shoulder – Clover hadn’t even heard him approach. “Oz?”

“It’s good to see you, Qrow. Though somewhat unexpected.” The man smiled calmly; he had a pleasant smile, one you could trust.

“Uh, Cloves, this is Professor Ozpin, a colleague of mine.” Qrow introduced with a gesture at Ozpin, a look of silent confusion still on his face.

“I was also a teacher of his at Beacon Academy.” Ozpin said with a hint of pride, the corners of his eyes crinkling behind his glasses. He definitely had to be quite old then.

“Well, nice to meet you.” Clover extended his hand. “I’m – ”

“Captain Clover Ebi of the Ace Operatives.” He shook Clover’s hand. “May I come in?”

Clover glanced at Qrow, who simply gave a shrug that lingered on apologetic, and he invited the man into the apartment. The door swept shut behind him, and Ozpin greeted the two children with a wave. Ruby ran to her uncle’s side, pressing her face into his leg (with the infallible logic that if she couldn’t see the strange man, then the strange man couldn’t see her) while Yang waved back.

“I wasn’t expecting to see you, Oz. Is everything alright?” Qrow asked with a cautious tone, trying to reassure Ruby by picking her up and holding her to his chest. Again, she pressed her face into his shirt until her little nose was flush against a button.

“Everything is quite well, all things considered. Though I was only popping in to introduce myself to the Captain.” He gestured to Clover casually, as if they were friends. But Clover could swear he’d never seen the man before in his life. Once again Clover looked to Qrow. “…Unless of course, I’m interrupting anything?”

“No, uhm, not at all.” Clover shook his head, trying to put his usual confidence up, a friendliness to match Ozpin’s. “Do you want some tea?”

“I wouldn’t mind a coffee.”

Clover made himself busy with the kettle, watching the little light on the side changing colour to indicate the heat the water was rising to. He hadn’t been expecting guests round, much less someone so… interesting. An old teacher of Qrow’s, a colleague. What would someone like that want with him? Perhaps he knew Ironwood, as well.

Perhaps he knew about this strange Salem business.

He watched the water roll to a boil, the bubbles growing in size and splashing up against the glass. Snippets of the conversation was carried from the living room to the kitchen, punctuated by the sounds of the children.

“...Quite a nice apartment.” Ozpin mentioned, his tone bordering on sly. “It would make for a nice _nest_ , would it not?”

“Oh, ha ha.” Qrow drawled.

The man laughed, and for a few moments there was a quietness in the living room.

“…is everything really alright?” Qrow sounded hushed. Clover shouldn’t be listening in; being nosy already got him in enough trouble.

“Same old on my end, I assure you.” Ozpin had the voice of a grandparent, of someone beyond their years. Ever gentle. “Though it looks like there’s been a new development with you, hm?”

Clover smiled at Qrow’s embarrassed laugh, and poured the water into the mugs. He came back with a tray of drinks, setting them on the coffee table. Ruby was still clinging to Qrow like a sugar glider, though her swirling silver eyes glanced at Ozpin from time to time, curious about the man, a vague hint of recognition in her features. They smiled in thanks at the drinks, and Ozpin took his mug, letting it warm his hands. His features settled on Ruby briefly as Clover sat.

“Look at her, all curled up, she’s barely there.” He watched the girl shuffle off her uncle’s lap to hide within the hoodie and cloak around his back, making Qrow sit up. “If she got any smaller she could disappear altogether.”

Clover gave a patient laugh, a little unsure of how to respond, but Qrow just rolled his eyes, apparently used to the quirks of the professor. “You said earlier you wanted to speak with me.”

Ozpin directed his attention at Clover and nodded, before taking a long sip of coffee. Brown eyes stared into him but Clover stood firm, silently reassured by how nonchalant Qrow was in his presence. “Yes, I did. The General and I are quite newly acquainted – in the grand scheme of things – but he told me about that horrific accident of yours.”

Clover stiffened. “It wasn’t an accident.” His tone was sharper than he’d planned, more rigid. He felt guilty; this man was a stranger, but clearly not an enemy. The nightmare still lingered in the back of his mind, the dread, the vision of Harbinger splitting his ribs – it left him on edge. He needed to get a grip. It was ridiculous to act like this, it was weak, it was –

Qrow put a hand over Clover’s. A support, a silent comfort. Clover glanced at his boyfriend, his encouraging smile, and the way a little puff of Ruby’s hair poked out of his hood. It helped.

Ozpin put his cup down on the table. “Of course. A poor choice of words; my apologies, Captain.”

Qrow’s hand was still over Clover’s, and he smiled. “No worries.”

“Understandably a bit of a touchy subject, I take it,” Ozpin figured, “let’s move onto something happier. How have you settled in Patch? Quite well?” He gestured at Qrow pointedly, a knowing smile on the ageless man’s face.

“You could say that.” He squeezed Qrow’s hand, watching the way it made the Huntsman pink in a way Clover had grown to love. Qrow huffed and pulled away, clearly having no interest in being in the spotlight. Little Ruby finally clambered out of the back on the hoodie and onto Clover’s lap. “I’ve actually been working at the local nursery with this little one. Hm?”

Ruby clapped her hands happily, her eyes shining up at Clover. Ozpin cocked his head in surprise at that. “You don’t strike me as the type, I must say.”

“I get that a lot.” He chuckled.

“He’s surprisingly good with…” Qrow began, trailing off as he peered into the kitchen. Yang had been wondering around the entire time to keep herself occupied, and the door to the kitchen had been left ajar, just enough to hide most mischief. “Yang, what do you have?” He squinted.

“A knife!” She replied gleefully.

“NO!” Qrow jumped off the sofa at a moment’s notice.

“Why does she have a knife…?” Clover’s shoulders slumped.

Ozpin laughed fondly as he watched Qrow leap into action. “Children,” he glanced back to Clover, “always quite a handful.”

“Some days at the nursery are more hectic than missions.” Clover agreed, feeling a little more at ease upon finding some common ground with the stranger. “Do you have kids?”

Ozpin’s lips tightened, and he hesitated. But his eyes remained unreadable. “I suppose not.”

Clover stopped himself from frowning in confusion, but the conversation was redirected before the silence could linger. “Qrow mentioned you in passing last time we spoke, but I hadn’t yet realized the extent of your relationship. Did you meet down in Patch?”

Clover nodded, looking down kindly at the little girl still on his lap. “Ruby goes to the nursery I’m stationed at.” He caught himself. “Well, not _stationed_ , but…”

“I understand.” Ozpin gave a polite chuckle, sipping his coffee and glancing back at the door to the kitchen. They could hear Qrow berating Yang about playing with knives. In a smaller voice, he mentioned, “he seems happier.”

Clover paused at that. He thought back to what he knew, those people clearly so close to him, and he softened. “I’m glad.”

Ozpin stole a glance at Clover as the man gazed in the direction of Qrow’s voice, watched how he held Ruby securely, and he smiled to himself, though the Captain didn’t notice until he finally drew his attention back to the Headmaster. “With all due respect, professor... why exactly did you want to speak with me?”

Ozpin crossed his legs and leaned back into the opposite sofa. “Well... I’m vetting you out, as the kids would say.”

“I’m – excuse me?”

“General Ironwood has told me plenty about you, but I wanted to know _you_ , as a person. Not just a file on my scroll.”

“...why?” Clover narrowed his eyebrows. What business would a Headmaster have to do with him? The main academies were important to the overall structure of Remnant... but this felt unorthodox. Unusual. The fact that this man was so quietly bizarre didn’t help the unease building in the back of Clover’s skull, the weight of the curiosity, the finger leering close to his fight-or-flight switch but not quite committing too either.

Ozpin finished his coffee and took his time positioning it on the coffee table. “There is a lot that the General and I have been discussing lately, though I’d rather not say in front of the little one.” He looked down at Ruby with a smile. She tilted her head at Ozpin. “And aren’t you little indeed? Are you a girl, or a mouse?”

Ruby furrowed her eyebrows. “A girl – don’t _look_ like a mouse.”

“Well you’re so little, my old eyes find it hard to tell the difference.” He made a show of playing with his glasses, and Ruby let out a little snicker, laying her head trustingly on Clover’s chest. Clover gave her a smile when she peered up at him, unknowingly pushing the weight of her head into his metal sternum. He smiled still through the ache of the pressure; Ozpin had a point. She was very mouse-like in some ways, with her big curious eyes and quiet nature. He often found her hiding in corners of the nursery by herself, engrossed in a picture book or painting, which is how he first found her all those months ago. She was a sweet little thing.

She hopped off Clover’s lap once her uncle emerged from the kitchen, holding Yang under his arm like a giggling barrel. Ruby clung to his leg, and he let out a sigh. “At least _you’re_ well-behaved... usually.”

Ozpin smiled once more and stood up, his cane extending to its full length. The snap was a mechanical noise, the stylish cogs spinning in the handle. “And on that note, I believe I will leave you both to it.”

“You’re leaving already?” Qrow’s head cocked up as he was struggling to pick up Ruby while keeping Yang under his other arm.

“There’s always something to do, my boy.” He gestured. “Though perhaps we’ll see each other again at the festival.”

“At the...?” Clover prompted, taking Yang off Qrow with a scoop.

“Hm? I’m surprised you’ve not yet heard.” He took a folded leaflet out of his pocket and handed it to Clover. It was unusual for Atlas to have things printed out on paper, but it started to make sense when he noticed the _Schnee Dust Company_ logo on the front – it appeared they were going for a more vintage look. “They’re hosting a little festival this evening – some charity event or another – but it could be quite fun and, dare I say it, romantic.”

Qrow scoffed, that familiar pink threatening to rise up to his cheeks just the way Clover loved. Yang reached with a little grabby hand for the leaflet, pushing her cheek against Clover’s bare shoulder to get at it as Qrow led Ozpin to the front door. “It was good seeing you, Oz.”

Ozpin nodded politely, looking over at Clover. “And it was a pleasure meeting you, Captain Ebi.”

“Yeah, you too.” _Pleasure_ wasn’t the word Clover would use; a little unsettled, more like, and left with more questions than answers. But he wasn’t going to _say_ that.

They both watched the man leave for a few moments, before shutting the door in the face of the cold.

“He’s... interesting.” Clover finally relented and gave Yang the leaflet, and she pulled it open to gave at the pictures. The company logo had just recently been redesigned to something sleeker, though in all honesty it clashed considerably with the fancy aesthetic of the leaflet. All Clover caught of the writing was something along the lines of upholding old Atlesian traditions before Yang flipped it over to the back, revealing a picture of a proud-looking man with dyed white hair. She pulled an icky face.

“Yeah, you get used to it.” Qrow stretched, balancing Ruby on his hip bone. “What did he want, exactly?”

Clover frowned. That was the thing, he still wasn’t quite sure. “To vet me out. Apparently.”

“Can we go to the festival? They have food.” She held the leaflet out excitedly to her uncle. He took it and frowned to himself as Ruby started chewing on his cloak; he didn’t seem to notice.

“It’s on pretty late... and we have to be out of here pretty early tomorrow, Ying-Yang.”

“Just a few hours? Please? I’ll be extra good!”

“It wouldn’t hurt to just check it out, hm?” Clover out his free hand around Qrow’s waist. “If we don’t stay out too late, it should be fine.”

Qrow went to object, glancing down at Ruby. She had spat out his cloak in the nick of time, and was gazing up at him with big pleading eyes. He rolled his eyes, but relented. “Fine, but I’m not buying you any toys – there’s no room in the suitcases.”

“Yaaay!” She wriggled out of Clover’s grip and ran off to the spare room.

“I mean it!” He called after her. “No tantrums either!”

Clover chuckled, kissing Qrow’s temple. “Let them have a bit of fun, love. Next thing you know you’ll be telling them not to run amuck or set any fires.”

“Don’t encourage them.” Qrow smiled tiredly.


	22. Chapter 22

Before humans and Faunus had developed the technology needed for air travel, lantern-drifting was an old tradition all through Solitas. It was believed writing your wishes on the tissue of the lantern before sending it off with a spark of fire Dust would help the gods hear your wish – the higher the lantern went before the Dust burned away the tissue and dropped back down to Remnant, the more likely your wish would be to come true.

It was a quaint belief (many people still practiced it illegally even after the tradition was banned after one too many airship-related accidents), and it was one that children thoroughly enjoyed. They’d wish to become heroes, or wish for happiness to fall on their family. Clover’s mother once told him she released a lantern in the sky when she was still pregnant, and it flew up so high she’d lost sight of it. That was why he was so lucky. It still made him smile thinking of it. Whenever he saw the little golden lights in the sky, although he knew damn well they were against the rules, he thought of her.

Atlas hadn’t simply outlawed the practice, nobody wanted that. Instead, they introduced a new tradition – lantern drifting. The same rules applied; after writing your wish, you’d tie the tissue around a sliver of gravity Dust and plop it in the local river, and the further downstream it’d go, the more likely your wish would come true. Instead of burning the tissue, the water would dissolve it – someone even had the idea to start making sugar paper for the occasion, to prevent any damage to the wildlife. The gravity Dust stopped the tissue from flying away before the water had the chance to disintegrate it. Qrow could already tell he was going to have to stop Ruby from eating the sugar paper, and they had only just arrived at the festival.

Unlike many traditions in Remnant, it wasn’t season-based. Anyone could do it any time. Sometimes couples would write their names on the paper before sending it down the river, in the hopes of making their love eternal. The elderly would send off lanterns to wish happiness upon future generations. The patriotic would send prayers to keep the nation of Atlas strong (and would forget to send a prayer for Mantle, though nobody found that surprising anymore).

The set-up of the festival was quite delightful, themed entirely around this little tradition. Of course, being funded by the SDC, there were merchandise and Schnee product placements everywhere, printed and ingrained. But the locals did a good job of still making the place look inviting – if not still somewhat minimalist and efficient per modern Atlesian custom. There were metal stalls and booths set up around the place, some selling food, some for designated carnival games, all decorated with miniature lanterns hanging from the roofs and painted on the metal. It had been conveniently set up around the only proper “river” in Atlas, one that was man-made and regularly maintained. The largest stalls by far, though, where the ones at the entrance to the festival where they handed out the sugar paper (the gravity Dust was given out by the river on the opposite end of the grounds, and of course provided by the oh-so-generous CEO of the Schnee Dust Company). Clover put an arm around Qrow as they walked, and when he looked at their reflections in the metal of the booths, he could almost imagine them as a family unit. The thought made him smile like nothing else, but it also felt him feeling... nervous. This was Atlas, this was home ground for him, and he was getting to show it off to Qrow and the girls. He should be happy. He _should_ be. But, as he’d been quietly plagued since they’d arrived, he couldn’t help but feel agitated. It didn’t help that Atlesian Knights patrolled the rows silently, as they always did. Before the attack, Clover was fine with their presence, but now... they unsettled him. How they constantly searched for any sign of trouble; he found himself watching them. If something caught _their_ attention, then something obviously wasn’t right.

He tried to distract himself from the thought, and focused instead on Qrow, who always had a way of distracting him successfully without usually having to do much. Qrow was once again wearing Clover’s coat, one of the only ones he owned that had sleeves, and Ruby had insisted that he carry her, tucking her into the coat as she had tucked herself into his (Clover’s) hoodie the other night. So, her little head poked out from the top of the coat and nestled into his (Clover’s) scarf. Both the girls were bundled up in puffy coats and hats and gloves, but for the first time in months, Clover wasn’t wearing sweatpants and a hoodie. It felt weird, but he felt so much more comfortable in “real” clothes instead of baggy loungewear or joggers. Having spent so long in nothing other than loose-fitting clothes day-in and day-out... it had made him feel weak. It was the same stuff he’d worn in hospital, and it had started to serve as a reminder of that. But not only had it made him feel embarrassingly weak, but bored. It was such a little thing, and Clover had never realized it could have such an impact on one’s life. But tonight was different, for instead he wore proper pants, and one of the grey vests he’d usually have worn under his uniform jacket, his pin attached over the breast pocket. He felt more like himself than he had done in ages, all thanks to a vest and tight-fitting trousers.

Qrow seemed to enjoy the new change in style too. “Now this is a sight I’d stay in Atlas for.” He smirked as they walked, sneaking his free arm down and grabbing a shameless handful of Clover’s ass. Clover almost yelped, which only led to Qrow laughing (Ruby, who couldn’t see what was going on, gave her uncle a funny look. She never did understand what grown-ups found funny). “Jeez! You’re cakey, lucky charm.”

“I’m – what?!” He laughed incredulously, his back completely straight as Qrow kept his grip, seemingly not giving a damn that they were out in public.

“ _Cakey_ ,” he drawled, “beefy. Well-rounded. Thick.”

“I don’t like beef.” Yang said aloud, more interested in a big game booth. Both the men laughed, and Clover finally pushed Qrow’s hand away as they approached. The booth had three toy guns loaded on the counter, and on the other end was a thrown-together shelf stocked with towers of tin cans. The booth was lined with huge teddies of various colours, Beowolf plushies and plastic Nevermores, along with cotton dolls and Atlesian Knight figurines. All winnable – if you had good aim. “Uncle Qrow! Can I try this one?”

The small man behind the counter smiled and told them the price, and Yang got a plastic gun as soon as Qrow paid. Clover crouched down and helped her hold the gun properly; it was a toy so the ricochet of firing would essentially be undetectable, but she seemed very happy to learn. So she aimed... for the highest tin. The first time she missed, and the last two bullets only just wobbled the tin.

“Sorry! Better luck next time!” The man said.

Yang grumbled. “I wanna do it again.”

“You should aim for the bottom ones. Why don’t you get Clover to show you?” Qrow suggested.

“I think you’d have better aim than me, love.” Clover said in response.

“Yeah, but worse luck. I’m never any good at these things.” He replied miserably.

“Come on, I’m right here, you’ll have all the luck in the world.” Clover grinned cockily, ignoring the strange looks from the man behind the counter.

“Last time you said that, I was catapulted off the back of a sled.” Qrow drawled, but Yang stared up at her uncle with big pleading eyes, like that of a puppy. Clover almost laughed as he even spotted her trying to wobble her bottom lip. It didn’t take much more for Qrow to break. “Fine... waste of money, though. I’m not gonna win anything.” He sighed, passing Ruby to Clover – who did not appreciate being pulled out of her little warm spot – and paying for a second round. The toy felt ridiculously light in his grip, which threw him off a little, but he still squinted at the target. He took aim, and fired.

The tins fell with a clatter.

Qrow looked surprised at himself, lowering the gun as Yang and Ruby cheered. He glanced at Clover as if he’d done all the work, his face torn between sheepish and excited in the most adorable way. Clover could have swooned at the sight alone. Gods, he was hopeless for this man.

“Lucky shot?”

“No,” Clover shook his head, “I’d draw that one up to skill.”

Qrow rolled his eyes, but the pink in his face gave away how happy he actually was.

“Can I get a Beowolf?! Please, please please?!” She grinned in delight at her uncle.

“Hey, it’s _my_ prize! _I_ won it!” He teased, before getting the man behind the counter to pass him one of the Grimm plushies with a jolly praise.

Yang took the toy and fell in love with it, pressing her face into the fur. “Thank you! I love him!”

She showed it to Ruby, and she writhed in Clover’s arms and let out as ferocious a roar as her little body could muster – so in short, a squeak.

The one thing Clover couldn’t convince Qrow to try was the claw machines. They were much bigger than the ones they would find in an arcade (much less any arcade in Patch), the claw itself lit up with holographic lights and a distracting holographic screen playing a crazy animation in the back of the machine. “Go on, you could at least try.”

“I _have_ tried – even with normal people, it doesn’t work. These things are rigged!” Qrow protested, and Clover sighed.

“Don’t say that, you _are_ normal.” He pointed out, but Qrow just crossed his arms. He knew what Clover meant, but for some reason what sprung to mind was the memory of Summer once saying that being called “normal” is the worst insult of all – she said lots of funny things like that. She also threw catastrophic tantrums when she lost at claw machines.

Through force of habit, he tried not to think about her. Pushing aside those memories had become a bit of a norm for him, but the guilt of doing so was something he wasn’t going to get used to no matter what.

“Qrow?” Clover said, snapping him back to the current moment.

“Whatever,” he shrugged, “I’m not wasting my money on these things.”

“Me and Yang will do one then.” He put Ruby down, took out his wallet and gave Yang a Lien coin to put into the machine next to his, and he noticed when Qrow took a few steps back as they played, as if his bad luck could be weakened somehow the further away he got. Clover sighed to himself as he mentally selected a toy, a stuffed egg with a tired expression. He wished there was something more he could do for Qrow, some way to let him just enjoy the evening without worrying, without stopping himself from doing something fun for once.

He shook his head and focused on the game. The claw picked up the egg toy... and then dropped it. He tilted his head; that didn’t usually happen. He still had a few more goes, but each time after the claw simply dropped the toy – on the final try his aim was so bad it didn’t even graze the sad little egg, and it just sat there dismally among the other funky toys.

“That’s not right.” He pouted as he watched the “game over” animation play on the holo-screen at the back of the machine.

“Bad luck.” Qrow grimaced, as if he was apologizing.

“Don’t, this wasn’t you – ” Clover was interrupted by Yang’s shrill scream of delight. On her last try, she caught a little bumblebee toy and it dropped down the WIN slot. She crouched down and retrieved the toy, running over to her uncle to show him.

“Look! Look! I got the bee!”

“Well done, Yang!” Clover watched happily, and while he did feel happy for the girl, he felt disappointed in himself. It was rare that he lost one of those games, not that he’d played often since he was a kid – when he was at school, the other kids had blamed him for “not using his luck” or “not trying hard enough”. He even remembered one other kid being convinced he didn’t like them just because they rolled a dice and got the wrong number.

Then again, a lot of kids only hung out with him back then for his good fortune, so he’d grown used to that. Like Qrow, he tried to push away the memories and focus on the moment, on the girls.

“Buzzy buzz.” Ruby said happily, and then Yang selflessly held the bee toy out to her little sister.

“I won it for you, Ruby.” She beamed.

“Aw, that’s sweet, firecracker.” Qrow patted her head as Ruby’s eyes grew wide, and she took the little bee.

“I love Ying-Yang!” She hugged her big sister, thanking Yang over and over. “Does Bee know where Ladybug is...?”

“Mr Bee is gonna look after you until Ladybug shows up again.” She smiled, sounding pleasantly confident. Clover realized that was the same tone Catherine used for the little ones, and he chuckled to himself. But Yang shot him an angry look and reverted back to her usual self, shouting “it’s not funny! Mr Bee is gonna be nice because he’s a bee AND BEES ARE NICE!”

“Easy, firecracker!” Qrow scooped Yang up. “He wasn’t laughing at you!”

She glared at Clover suspiciously, who really was trying to not laugh as a nervous tick and annoy the girl more. But she was too cute when she scrunched up her faced and eyed him so. “Of course I wasn’t laughing at you, sweetie. It’s just so nice that you got Mr Bee just for Ruby.”

“Bee is my friend now.” Ruby ignored them all and smushed her face into the soft toy. It was much cuter than most of the other toys in the machine, covered in fuzzy fur striped pitch black and golden yellow. It even had curly antennae and little beaded eyes. The illusion of realism broke, however, when Clover looked upon the bee’s small plastic jar of honey clutched in its spindly legs. But nonetheless Ruby was ecstatic.

Clover picked Ruby up, trying not to groan at the sudden ripple of pain running up his spine. He held her up on his bare shoulder and she clung happily to his head, pushing the bee toy into Clover’s cheek. “Hey! I hope you’re not trying to get him to sting me!”

Ruby shook her head vigorously, nearly throwing her knitted hat off her head. It was something Summer had knitted when Raven was pregnant – she’d gone a bit knitting-crazy when Yang came along, and it never really stopped. Qrow never knew where she’d found the time.

He was certain there was still a box somewhere in the house, filled with yarn and needles and half a pair of socks, never to be finished. His heart seized and his jaw clenched, but it didn’t hurt quite how it used to. Ruby was still smiling, after all. Yang and Ruby were both happy.

And he had Clover.

They would have liked Clover.

The thought was warming. It was bittersweet that he’d never get to meet such amazing people, that they would never meet him, but it was still a comfort. To imagine Clover shaking his head at Tai’s jokes, or listening to Summer gush and rave about her favourite Grimm to fight, it was a wonderful feeling. It was one he wouldn’t mind getting used to once the raw sting of loss subsided.

“Can we get something to eat?” Yang tugged at Qrow’s scarf to get his attention. “Please?”

“We just got here, you’re hungry already?” He pouted. “I made you snacks before we left...”

“I’m hungry again!” She grabbed at his nose with her gloved hand, forcing him to hold the girl at arms length.

“The food stalls are only the next aisle over.” Clover smiled, just about managing to angle his head so he didn’t get a fabric bumblebee wing in his eye. “Come on, let’s indulge.” He winked at Qrow, who simply rolled his eyes and plopped Yang back down. But he couldn’t hide his smile.

The rows of stalls seemed endless, and in proper Atlas fashion, were organized and ordered to a standard that Qrow would have deemed unnecessary. The stalls selling sweet treats were on the right while the savoury food was issued on the left, and categorized even further into groups. There were at least 5 stalls they passed dedicated to selling famous Atlesian soups, before moving onto different types of grilled veggies and meats all seasoned and skewered. Clover grimaced as they passed a freshly-brewed coffee stall; his ears stung at the shrill voice of a woman yelling that her coffee wasn’t made perfectly (though he suspected she was only upset because the poor boy manning the stall was a Faunas). Yang and Ruby paid no mind, too busy watching a man on the right making an elaborate multicoloured cotton candy swirl, but Clover did notice when a familiar voice began arguing with the strident woman, demanding that she not make a scene.

And when Clover turned, sure enough, there was Marrow with his own cup of coffee trying to ardently shoo the miserable shrew away.

“Marrow?” He stopped where he stood, and Qrow looked over at him as Marrow turned their way mid-sentence.

Marrow turned to Clover, and he beamed, his tail wagging so much it nearly made his hips swish with it. “Captain!” He ran over to Clover, the loud woman long forgotten (to everyone’s joy, she sulked off to complain at a different stall instead). He stopped and hesitated as he looked down at Ruby still balanced on Clover’s hip, her big shiny eyes looking back up at him. “Who’s...?”

“Another one of your operative friends?” Qrow came over, a slight smirk on his face. Marrow seemed even more flabbergasted at the sight of Yang, another little child, totting along behind.

Clover was in the process of introducing them when a familiar figure jumped behind Marrow with a big smile and a fruity laugh. Elm beamed as she ruffled Marrow’s hair. “Captain Clover! I’m so happy we get to see each other again!” She looked down happily at the two children. “Oh wonderful! He brought the mini-Huntresses!”

Yang peered up at Elm and Marrow inquisitively, before smiling. “Elm.”

Elm looked between the two girls, looking as though she might cry before happily picking up Marrow for a hug until he was wheezing. “They REMEMBER ME!”


	23. Chapter 23

Potato dumplings were quite an old treat from Atlas tradition, given that potatoes were one of the only vegetables that could naturally grow in the cold climate. Of course, the recipe had changed over time until they were barely recognizable compared to the original food, but the little dumplings the couple had got from one of the stalls were still delightfully chewy and hot. Very hot, in fact, drizzled in a thick red sauce and chili pepper flakes.

“I thought you could handle the heat.” Clover chuckled at Qrow, who was currently red in the face and nursing a bottle of thin mint milkshake, hoping it’d soothe some of the burning. “They’re not _that_ spicy...”

“You should have warned me!” Qrow grizzled and sipped his drink, trying to ignore the way Ruby and Yang giggled at their uncle. They had opted for little sticks of fried cinnamon bread and weren’t having to deal with the apparent hell Qrow was trying to cope with. As Clover had come to expect, come to love, he looked surprisingly adorable with his cheeks flushed through with colour. Red suited him.

“C’mere, you got a little spot on you.” Clover leaned closer with his tongue out, only for Qrow to shove him away petulantly.

“I’m not falling for that one again.” He tried, but Qrow couldn’t stop Clover reaching over to kiss the corner of Qrow’s mouth nonetheless.

Yang grumbled and covered Ruby’s eyes, but Elm laughed and shoved Marrow. “Aah, you two are so lovely together! So _romantic_!”

Marrow rolled his eyes as Elm fawned, and Qrow batted Clover away, albeit playfully, not quite wanting his lucky charm to stray too far away. He took a sip of his drink. “Romantic? He’s an absolute sap.”

“That ‘sap’ is the leader of the Ace Operatives,” Marrow crossed his arms defensively, “and he’s not a sap!”

“You don’t know him like I do, kiddo.” Qrow waved him off, but that only annoyed Marrow more.

Clover put a hand up to ease Marrow, but Elm seemed more invested in the couple than ever, and completely ignored her colleague. She rested her chin on her hands as she admired the couple, much to Qrow’s quiet dismay at being the centre of attention. “Soooo,” she purred, “how did you two meet?”

“Clover’s been working at the nursery Ruby goes to.” Qrow gestured to little Ruby, who was chewing on a napkin that had cinnamon sugar stuck to it. Qrow rolled his eyes and pulled it out of her mouth as Elm cooed. Marrow watched the tiny child with a slight frown; her entire mouth was covered in a layer of melting sugar and cinnamon, and Yang wasn’t much cleaner.

“A – wait, a nursery?” Marrow turned his attention back to the Captain, who nodded.

“Seemed like a good way to get out of the apartment.” He pinched one of Qrow’s dumplings, though he suspected his boyfriend definitely didn’t mind, considering how spicy they (apparently) were.

“Since when have you been good with kids?!”

“Well,” Elm flicked Marrow’s nose playfully, “he had to deal with you trailing behind him all the time, didn’t he?”

“ _I’m_ not a kid!” Marrow pointed to himself with his thumb, pouting irritably. Clover and Qrow shared a look.

“Come on, enough teasing.” Clover shook his head, waving them both off.

“He’s a nice teacher,” Ruby said quietly once Qrow was done wiping her mouth, “he paints with me, an’ reads with me.”

“Aww, that’s so sweet!” Elm beamed.

“He played with the birdie too.” Ruby smiled, sitting up more confidently to talk.

“The... birdie?” Marrow inquired, tilting his head at the tiny child.

“There’s this cute crow that keeps visiting the nursery garden,” Clover explained, “I dunno if it’s been domesticated or something, but it really likes the kids. It’s a sweet little thing.”

Qrow sipped his drink quietly.

“Apparently it broke into the house!” Yang exclaimed, before her excitement suddenly fizzled out. “I never got to see it though.”

“That probably wasn’t the same one...” Clover smiled softly at the girl.

“Do you think we’ll see Birdie here?” Ruby looked up at her uncle.

“Uh, probably not.” He patted her head. “You might have to wait until we get back. Speaking of which...” He checked his scroll and frowned, looking over at Clover. “It _is_ getting late now.”

“True,” Clover sighed and stood up, picking up the now-empty container of dumplings, “we have a ship back to Vale to catch tomorrow, and these two monsters should be off to bed soon.”

Yang groaned, but Ruby hopped off her seat and went by her uncle, holding his sleeve.

“Wait, you’re not staying?” Marrow frowned in confusion, looking up at the Captain like a lost puppy. His tail even curled in a little – not that anyone else could see.

Clover hesitated. “No, no, not yet.”

“But you’re the Captain! We’ve been lost without you!” Marrow stood up in admittedly weak protest.

Guilt came in many forms. Currently, it felt like a sickening heat in the bottom of Clover’s stomach, sinking through his chest like lead. Forming sweat on the back of his neck. All these months and he’d barely even thought of how the rest of his team had been coping. Perhaps he still could have been able to organize missions while healing or done _something_. Perhaps he should have insisted on staying in Atlas, should have shown more resistance to the idea of moving so far away. Perhaps he never should have gone to Vale.

But Qrow laced his fingers with Clover’s, squeezed his hand. Brought him back to the present. And although the act did bring some comfort to him, it also brought a new guilt forming over the old like a skin. If he hadn’t gone to Vale, he never would have had a chance at meeting Qrow. Was he selfish for wanting to stay in Atlas? Or was it selfish to want to stay in Vale? What was even right, anymore?

“He’s still healing.” Qrow said simply.

“But - !” Marrow looked between the two men, before Elm put a hand on her colleague’s shoulder, her voice going soft for the first time.

“We will still be here when you come back.” She nodded firmly, and Clover knew there was supposed to be reassurance in that. He wanted to feel reassured. All he could think to do in response was smile through his guilt, smile through his uncertainty, and hope it would work. As usual, it did; as usual, they saw nothing but the smile he offered them.

As a saving grace, Yang ran round the table and linked her hand with Clover’s. “Can’t we at least do the sugar paper thingy before we leave?”

Ruby bopped up and down excitedly at the idea, and Qrow scooped her up. “I don’t see why not – we already got the stuff.”

“We must really get back on patrol, on that note.” Elm crossed her arms and smiled warmly at the family. “It really was wonderful seeing you again, Clover.”

“And you.” Clover felt at least some relief as he squeezed Yang’s little hand in his. He gestured jokingly to Marrow, cordial in his movements as he addressed Elm. “Keep this one out of trouble for me, alright?”

Before Elm could hit back with her own response, Marrow moved around the table and did something that Harriet would have berated him for were she with the group. He hugged Clover.

Clover let out a surprised laugh, taken off-guard for a few moments, before he returned the hug and laughed properly, trying not to let the guilt of leaving seep down any further than it already was. “I’ll be back before you know it.” His words felt hollow, but he made himself keep his tone jovial.

Marrow’s tail gave a weak wag and he patted Clover’s back, before his hand froze as he felt the hard bolted segments of metal poking up from under the Captain’s shirt. And that was it; Clover’s heart spiked in a way it hadn’t before, a certain type of dread he hadn’t even acknowledged was sitting dormant in his chest suddenly boiled over. It was such a little thing, really, to have someone feel an old scar like that. That was what Clover thought, anyway. But just then, just there, it was more than he could take. He sharply withdrew from Marrow before he completely forgot how to breathe, practically shoved the young man away.

“C-Captain?” Marrow stuttered.

“The river. Right. To the river.” Clover didn’t want to look up, didn’t want to see anyone else’s face; his heart was in his throat and he couldn’t figure out how to push it back down. And gods, did he want to, before it embarrassed him. Made him look weak. “Good seeing you.”

He could hear Qrow’s voice, but it felt like it was in the back of his mind as he walked - paced rather. In fact, every sound felt muffled against the ringing in his ears, the boiling of his blood. What _was_ this? He’d never felt like this. It felt like his back burned where Marrow had touched it, the heat searing all the way down even into the few organic vertebrae he had left. But it wasn’t a painful feeling, not exactly. It was as if fear itself, fear and dread and all its accessories, had manifested into some fire under his skin, too deeply embedded in his blood to drain out. He just kept walking.

But he wanted to run. He wanted to sprint, to rip himself away from the crowd as if he was being chased. But where else was there to go? There was only the tundra on the horizon and he couldn’t go there. He couldn’t go _there_. He just kept walking.

He wanted all motion to halt, he wanted to curl up, let himself become entombed in the snow. He wanted to hide but he could figure out what he wanted to hide from. This didn’t make any sense. He’d been taught briefly about the different responses to fear – fight, flight, or freeze. For some reason he could feel all three rushing through his veins all at once. He just. Kept. Walking.

It felt like an eternity, but there came a time when the drumming of his heart began to slow just a pinch, when it wasn’t being crushed by his caving-in ribs and his back wasn’t on fire. He finally stopped to take a breath, looked up at the sky, the shattered moon waning, and... Qrow.

Qrow took one of Clover’s hands in his. “The hell was that all about? You went into autopilot or something?”

“I... I...” He just shook his head, looking down at their hands. He was terrified of that feeling, of that sudden burst of fear. Could that really happen? Did he _let_ that fear take over, or was it completely out of his control? What was worse?

But his mind was clearer now, he could think now. “The girls... where are...?”

Qrow smiled softly, gesturing to the right. He’d given them both a Lien card to pick something out at a stall that specialised in Atlesian candies, giving him and Clover just a moment of clarity.

Clover sighed. “I don’t... I don’t know what I... He touched my back, I...” He wasn’t making any sense, he knew that, but Qrow almost seemed to understand. It was in the way he nodded, the way he squeezed Clover’s hand. Clover found real comfort in that.

“You still wanna go to the river? It’ll be pretty empty this early on.”

“Please.” He sighed in relief.

\---

Just because the river running through Atlas was manmade, that didn’t make it any less pretty than the other natural rivers down on the rest of Remnant. But it definitely had been modified, and it held within it many military secrets and surprises. The river was deep, far too tall for any man or woman to stand on the river bed and hope to be able to breathe in the sharp surface air. The water ran crystal clear and rushed through the dug-out trail, but deep below there were blue lights embedded into the river bed, making the entire river glow a magical blue.

Ruby stared, enchanted, into the chilling waters. Yang, very clearly, wanted to dive right in, so Qrow had taken to holding her. There were Atlesian Knight robots who stood guard every handful of metres to keep people from falling in or strolling too deep into the river, but Qrow wasn’t taking any chances, so he gripped her tight.

They collected slivers of Dust crystals and he told the girls about the wishes that the lanterns would carry down the river to keep them cheerful, but couldn’t help but notice that Clover was still silent. Unengaged. He swallowed as he watched Clover stared into the river, the way the water reflected in ripples across his dismal features. It was so unlike him, it put Qrow on edge a bit. He couldn’t say he understood perfectly what Clover was going through, but he could only try to help cheer him up.

“What wish are you going to write, Yang?” He sat down by the river bank, prompting Clover to do the same and take the sugar paper and Dust out of his pockets. The paper came in all sorts of bright pastel colours, theirs in particular being yellow, sugary pink and white, and lines were printed on the paper as instructions on how to fold them into the correct lantern shape. It was efficient, as all things in Atlas were designed to be, but they were also incredibly cute. Qrow clocked the little bitemark out of the pink sheet, and held it up to Ruby who kept her eyes glued to the ground.

“If I tell you, it won’t come true.” Yang said stubbornly as Clover passed her a pen.

“Wishes don’t always have to be secret.” Qrow gestured to a few bright blue lanterns that trailed down the river in front of them. “Look, you can read the wishes on those.” One lantern got stuck on a jutting rock by the edge, but when Qrow gave it a little nudge to help it along, it sunk immediately and he quickly withdrew his hand and looked around to see if anyone saw. Well, that was someone’s wish he’d cut short. Damn it, he should know by now to just not bother trying, he only ended up making it worse.

On the other hand, it briefly snapped Clover out of his funk, and he rested his arm against Qrow’s comfortingly. “That one was about to sink anyway.” Clover reassured him, and he looked away. “That wasn’t you.”

Qrow opened his mouth to speak, and shut it again. That was absolutely him, but it was nice not to blamed for something for once. He changed the subject, “You feeling okay?”

Clover went to respond, then hesitated, then committed to giving a tentative nod. “I don’t know what that was earlier. I’m sorry, it was probably embarrassing.”

“No, it wasn’t,” Qrow reassured him, “not at all.”

“What was wrong?” Yang looked up at Clover, worried.

Clover gave the girl a reassuring smile, but she didn’t seem to buy it. “Something just, uh... upset me, but I’m okay now.”

“What upset you?” Ruby tilted her head.

“Don’t worry about it. Let’s get on with these lanterns.” He held out the Dust crystals to distract them. It didn’t.

“I wanna know what you’re sad about!” Yang protested. “I wanna help.”

“ _Yang_.” Qrow said suddenly. He put an arm around the girl and pushed a sheet of sugar paper into his hand. “It’s a grown-up thing. Now come on, show me how to fold this stupid lantern thing.”

Both girls proved reluctant, but Qrow kept their attention away from Clover by asking them both questions he already knew about the lanterns, the Dust, helping them decide what to wish for. He glanced over at Clover from time to time, making sure he was alright. Truthfully, Qrow was worried; he felt frustratingly helpless – but then again, when didn’t he?

“What do you want to wish for, Ruby?” He watched the girl shuffled closer and climb onto his lap.

“To be happy.” She smiled up at him, her hat pushed too far down her face until her black lashes fluttered against the trim.

He chuckled and fixed her hat, helping her write on the sugar paper and folding it up, trying his best not to rip it. How the little lanterns survived the journey down the river for more than a few seconds was baffling. Clover helped them attach the little lanterns to the slivers of gravity Dust, sent them down the glowing river, and finally he seemed to smile properly. And a little weight lifted from Qrow’s chest.

“Look! They’re swimming!” Yang pointed as the pink and yellow lanterns swished and floated all the way down the river. Clover picked her up without thinking, putting her on his shoulders so she could see them better. She was beaming, and Clover didn’t look like he was in pain.

Qrow smiled. Clover’s back was getting better, much better, it seemed. When he was completely healed... would he return to Atlas? Would he stay there? Qrow should be happy for him, but the thought just brought a familiar feeling to him. One he had hoped he wouldn’t have to feel again for a long time. The feeling of loss.

Was their time together temporary? Was Clover going to go eventually? Was he going to lose someone again...?

He pushed the thoughts away, pushed the feelings down, down, down. He didn’t want to think about that, not tonight. He had to make sure the girls were happy before he thought about himself. That Clover was alright. Qrow was used to putting other people first, that’s just how life was. His life, at least.

“Hey.” Clover smiled over at Qrow, bringing him out of his thoughts. He put Yang down once the lanterns faded completely from view, either sinking as they dissolved or simply bobbing too far down to see, and sat with Qrow again, holding out the sheet of white sugar paper. “Wanna make a wish?”

Qrow scoffed, but took the paper. “What else could I wish for when I have you?” He drawled, more on the side of sarcastic, but Clover only smiled wider.

“Doesn’t have to be a wish, could be more of a... promise.” He leaned back and put an arm lazily around Qrow. “You write my name on one end, I write yours on the other... they say it’s a way to promise yourself to someone else.”

“Gods you really are a sap.” Qrow laughed, but he was already writing the first few letters of Clover’s name. It was silly... but it felt like it helped soothe his worries, somehow. Clover smiled as he watched Qrow, and when Qrow held out the pen and paper, he happily took it. The white sugar paper was folded into a lantern, and sent down the river. And when Qrow watched it go, he felt a little better. Clover rested his head on Qrow’s shoulder, and Qrow shut his eyes and just allowed himself to stay in the tender moment. He’d not allowed himself luxuries like that in so long... in too long. Clover was a luxury to him, one he didn’t want to let go of.

Not yet.


	24. Chapter 24

The sight of the nursery room was a welcome one to Clover. He smiled as he took in the tiny chairs, the shelves of toys and books, the cute patterns on the carpets. The walls had been stripped of their drawings and bits of written work, though, to make space for everything yet to be made that new term. Of course, all the pieces had been put into each child’s drawer in the cloakroom, and anything that hadn’t been signed was put in a box on Catherine’s desk for her to go through with the kids that morning.

Catherine had been very happy to see Clover. She flung out an arm when she saw him, and for a brief second he feared she would go in for a hug, and a flash of panic surged through his head. But instead she took his hands in hers and beamed. “Welcome back, Clover.”

He greeted her in return with a smile, relieved. “It’s good to be back, Cathy. What a week.”

She went to speak before she gave him a confused look, glancing down at their hands. “Are you alright? You feel panicked, pet.”

“I _feel_...?” He frowned a little.

“Yeah. Like a rabbit caught in the light of a car. Did I spook you?”

“A... tiny bit, maybe?” He chuckled, pulling away once he noticed she was still gripping his hands.

She tucked her hands apologetically into her pockets, smiling. “Sorry, I guess it’s my Semblance. I can’t always keep it in check.”

“Your Semblance?”

“Empathy.” She explained warmly. “Whenever I touch someone, I can feel exactly what they feel. I can’t read your thoughts or anything – now _that_ would be one incredible Semblance to have – but it’s a bit similar. And just then you were really frightened.”

“I wasn’t... I wouldn’t say frightened.” He scratched the back of his head, frowning. It was like he was under scrutiny. “I just... well, I’m not big on hugs I guess.”

Catherine nodded understandingly. “Of course. I’ll keep that in mind.” She smiled and, without another word on the matter, gestured to a big toy box she’d heaved into the Storytime Corner. “A bunch of new toys have been donated. Can you help set them out on the tables?”

And just like that it was back to business. It was good to see all the children again, to watch them rushing in through the doors with their lunch boxes and bags, their big smiles, their excitable chatter. Clover took Ruby’s bags from Qrow once they arrived, and of course stole a quick kiss, one of the things he looked forward to the most in the mornings. Qrow looked beautiful in the morning light, the pale gold of Vale sunshine. Granted, the Atlesian white light complimented his pale complexion, almost made him look milky in it, but the warmth of the Patch sun breathed life into his alabaster face, the visible forearms, the deep v-shaped dip at the top of his shirt that exposed just a hint of a chest. There was recently more to see than usual – had Qrow started leaving an extra button undone since they’d started dating...?

“Any sign of Ladybug?” He said softly as Ruby toddled over to Catherine, wrapping herself around the happy woman’s leg.

Qrow grimaced, tired. “Still looking. Could be anywhere by now.” He ran a hand through his hair. “I don’t dare think it’s somewhere at the airport.”

“Would it... would it be a good idea to get her another one?” Clover frowned.

Qrow shook his head. “Summer got it for her. It’s special.”

Clover let out a soft sigh, and a part of his wished he’d kept more of the toys from his own childhood. “Well, good luck with the search.” He winked, but Qrow only smiled sadly. The charm of it just didn’t work this time, though he was still happy for Clover to lean forward and plant a kiss on the corner of his mouth. The way a thankful smile bloomed over his features was enough to send a flutter of warmth through Clover, only broken when Ruby and Teal grabbed his hand and dragged him away to show him the new toys (the ones he’d set up barely 20 minutes prior).

The rest of the morning was filled with everyone sitting in the Storytime Corner to recount what they all got up to that half-term. Orchid gushed about her big brother taking her to Beacon Academy and letting her meet his team. “They form Team C.L.W.D!” She said proudly, “it’s said like ‘cloud’ but it’s only 4 letters!”

“Did you meet the Headmaster?” Clover smiled, still half-thinking of that strange white-haired man.

Orchid nodded. “Yeah! He’s nice but he was really busy so I didn’t get to talk to him very long.”

Jack’s turn nearly brought him to tears, as he explained that he got sick and couldn’t go to the amusement park, but apparently he got a scroll call from Pumpkin Pete himself (who’s voice sounded suspiciously similar to his father’s) telling him to cheer up.

Aurora did exactly as she had plans – she sat at home with her family all week, watching cartoons and eating cereal. She seemed very pleased with herself.

Little Ruby had to hold Clover’s hand as she got up and spoke about her time in Atlas, keeping her hand in her pocket to hold her pacifier. Clover had honestly forgotten she still had one, she’d been using it so infrequently nowadays. He was happy; he’d gotten to watch her come out of her shell more and more. She was still sweet, and still shy, but clearly she’d improved.

“It sounds like you had lots of fun, Ruby!” Catherine cooed.

Ruby nodded. “My uncle stole one of Clover’s hoodies, but I’m not supposed to tell him.”

Catherine and Clover looked at each other, and Clover just laughed.

“I also lost Ladybug.” She said softly, looking down at her feet and squeezing Clover’s hand for support.

“Aw, I’m sorry to hear that, sweetie.” Catherine held out her arms for a hug, but Ruby turned and hugged Clover instead, her arms so little she couldn’t reach all the way around him. He was admittedly surprised she went to him – she knew Catherine for longer. He hugged the girl back and let her clamber onto his lap where she planned to remain for the rest of Storytime; he just said to Catherine he didn’t like hugs, was she going to be suspicious or upset or...?

But no, she smiled warmly at the pair, clearly used to the quizzical nature of children’s behaviour, and allowed Ruby to finish talking about Atlas.

“There was a big lantern festival with a big river, and uncle Qrow-Qrow let me bring home some candy but we ate it all so I couldn’t bring any in.”

“Aw, it’s the thought that counts.” Clover told her.

“There was a weird person buying candy.” She said casually.

“Oh?” Clover raised an eyebrow.

Ruby nodded. “He had a really long braid, and a tail with a stingy thing on the end.”

Clover stopped.

“And he kept giggling to himself.” Ruby didn’t notice Clover’s reaction. “But I don’t know what was funny.”

“Did you see his face?” Clover said, and Catherine looked up at Clover’s shift in tone. He didn’t like hearing the seriousness in his own voice, the orderly growl that would have come out as a bark had he not clenched his jaw.

Ruby shrugged. “A little. He was funny-looking.”

“Funny how?”

“Clover,” Lapis had a warning lilt to her voice, making a subtle gesture at the children staring in confusion at Clover, “is there something wrong?”

He couldn’t lose it here. Not in front of the little ones. Not in front of Catherine, or Lapis. But his heart was pounding in his head like a drum, painfully so. The beats were almost burning against his metal sternum, a hot shiver running through steel vertebrae and settling ominously at the back of his skull.

Yellow eyes. Purple eyes. A flash of poison. A blade through his chest.

He felt like he was going to scream.

“Something is very wrong. I need to talk to Ruby.” He stood up and carried Ruby to the cloakroom, the sound of the children’s chatter drowned out by the white hot static building up between his ears.

Callows was in Atlas? And nobody had noticed him?!

“Am I in trouble?” Ruby looked up at Clover as he set her down, her big eyes pondering up at him with worry.

“No, no – you’re not, you’re fine, but I need you to tell me about that man.” He tried to keep his voice steady as he knelt down by the little girl. “I need you to tell me everything.”

“There... he...” she shrugged again, clearly on edge now. “He didn’t do anything. He just stood there. Is he a bad man?”

Clover swallowed. He wanted to reach into his chest and hold his heart just to keep it still. “Yes. Yes he is.”

“Is he the bad man who hurt you?”

“...Yes.”

“Is everything okay?” Catherine opened the door to the cloakroom, peering in.

“I dunno.” Ruby said with a little voice, reaching into her pocket to hold her pacifier.

“Is it alright if the grown-ups talk for a minute?” She gave Clover a permissive smile, and he let out a breath he’d been holding in the bottom of his stomach and nodded. Ruby trotted away and Catherine sat on the bench by Clover.

Finally Clover held his head in his hands, gripped his hair as if holding tightly onto himself would stop himself from falling apart. He couldn’t do that here. Not here. Please not here.

But Catherine didn’t press. She let him have his space to breathe for a few long silent minutes. What she must think of him, Clover couldn’t tell. She probably thought he was so ridiculous, the strong Atlesian Captain trying not to fall to bits over a child’s comment. Pathetic. Weak.

“You know,” she said softly, more to herself than to Clover, “even when I was little, I knew I wanted to be a teacher. I was always helping my parents look after my younger siblings.”

Clover stayed silent, watching her speak as her eyes looked over the finger paintings decorating the wall. He couldn’t say he was able to relate. It had always been him and his mother. And then... just him.

“Saphron and Jaune are the youngest, so I was already a teen when they came along. But I knew I wanted to work with small children when I started properly babysitting them. I see a lot of Ruby in little Jaune, you know – so shy, so sweet.”

“Why are you...” He cleared his throat before the break in his voice became audible. “Why are you telling me this...?”

“To distract you.” She giggled, turning to Clover. “Feeling a bit better?”

Clover couldn’t help but smile weakly. “Just a pinch.”

“So... that candy man, hm? Not a friend?”

Clover sighed, a sick feeling swirling in his stomach. But at least he could breathe now, at least he could think a bit better.

“My injury wasn’t an accident.”

Catherine listened patiently.

“It was... someone did it. _He_ did it.”

“Must be powerful, to take down an Ace Operative.” She said observantly.

Clover nodded slowly, hesitating. Should he say anything? Should he withhold the information? What was the right thing to do? How much was he allowed to involve her?

“Callows.” He finally admitted like the name was an awful secret. “Tyrian Callows.”

Catherine raised her eyebrows, blinked a few times. Like she knew the name. “The serial killer Faunus man?”

Clover tried to suppress a shiver. He almost succeeded. “How do you know him?”

“Oh, I watch a lot of serial killer documentaries in my spare time. I like the crime channels.” She said casually, and Clover stared. Sweet little nursery teacher Catherine Arc watched serial killer documentaries?

“They don’t frighten you?”

“Of course they do. But they fascinate me too.” Catherine shrugged. “You can’t appreciate the good in people without seeing how bad others can be. That’s what my mother always says.”

Clover tried to smile at that. “My mother said something similar.”

They were quiet for a few moments.

“What really scares me,” Catherine said, holding her necklace, “was that little Ruby was so close to someone like that – that is, if it’s really who it sounds like it might be.”

Clover nodded, his features going grim. If it really was Callows, he needed to contact James – _the General_. It felt weird that he was starting to call him James in his head; he blamed it on Qrow’s casualness when talking about the man. How he was so careless when talking about General Ironwood, of all people, Clover couldn’t fathom. The man had earned his respect very early on, right from when he first moved to Atlas. Yet Qrow treated him as just that – a man. But he didn’t need to think about that right now.

Lapis poked her head around the door. “Uh... it’s officially break time now. Just letting you know.”

“Be right out.” She smiled, and when Lapis disappeared, she turned back to Clover. “Do you need a minute?”

“No... no, I’ll be fine.” Clover pushed himself up onto his feet. “Thank you, for sitting with me.”

“Any time, pet.” She beamed, and as they left the cloak room, Clover’s scroll buzzed. He took it out briefly to find a message from Qrow. Then another one. Then another one.

About 5 messages in total came through before he could even unlock the screen.

**FOUND IT**

**I FOUND IT**

**I FUCKING FOUND IT**

**YES**

**FINALLY**

Clover furrowed his eyebrows, and sent back a question mark, but the top right corner of the screen showed that Qrow had already gone offline. He shook his head and put his scroll away, before taking a deep breath and going out into the playground with the teachers.

He tried to just breathe in the outside air, smell the pollen and sea salt the wind carried. Patch was so much livelier than any place in Atlas, much fresher. He tried to convince himself he was safe here – the girls were safe here.

Had Callows really been there? Had he stood right by them? Had he said anything to either of the girls?

He couldn’t even confirm that it was the mad bastard anyway. That was the frustrating part. He got out his scroll again, intending on sending a message to Ironwood and forgetting Qrow’s sudden barrage of texts, when there came a loud squawk from the wall separating the playground of the nursery from the rest of the world. Ruby rushed over to look up at the black crow, and she giggled as she pointed up at it.

“Hello, birdie!” She called out, and the bird croaked back.

Clover smiled a little, putting his scroll away and standing a bit behind Ruby. “Well hey there, pretty bird.”

The bird’s feathers fluffed up dramatically, the dappled light from the tree above it catching the beautiful streams of grey going through the wings, before it shook its body and it returned to its usual sleek form. It looked back down at Ruby and let out an excited chirrup, and she whistled up at it.

The crow disappeared from the other side of the wall, long enough for Ruby to begin to lose interest and for Clover to reach for his scroll again, when suddenly it plopped back up, gripping something in its beak. A fabric antenna. The... it was Ruby’s ladybug toy.

Ruby squealed in shrill delight, her eyes going massive and her hands outstretched for the beloved toy. “LADYBUG! BIRDIE FOUND LADYBUG!”

Clover had to stop himself from cursing under his breath in shock. Where did that crow get that toy?! Had Ruby left it on the porch as they left, and the bird found it? How did it know it was Ruby’s? He’d heard crows were intelligent creatures, but...

The crow dropped it down and Ruby caught it, hugging it to her chest and jumping up and down, unable to contain her excitement.

“Thank you, birdie!! Thank you, thank you!” She beamed at the crow, which let out a tender coo. “Clover! Look! Birdie was looking after Ladybug for me!”

“Wow, that’s...” Clover scratched the back of his head, looking over at the bird. The bird looked back at him. “...That’s incredible.”

The bird gave a click and a few hoarse caws, and Clover reached out hesitantly, running his knuckle along the soft of the crow’s chest, as it had almost let him so long ago. Did it remember him?

Apparently yes. His courage paid off, and the bird let out a happy little noise as he stroked its chest. It had the softest feathers, and it was warm. When Clover stilled his hand, he could feel a heartbeat, faster than any humans, thumping with life. It was brilliant. It was familiar.

The crow lightly pecked his hand when he stopped stroking it, but before Clover could resume, the creature began to climb on his hand. It watched where it put its sharp feet, actually paid attention to not dig into Clover’s skin. Clover’s pounding heart stilled, and all other thought left him for a brief time as he watched the crow. No more thoughts on Callows, on James, on Ruby and her toy. On Atlas and his job. He simply watched the creature flap its wings to stay balanced, as it began to step further up his arm until he was perched on Clover’s shoulder, staring him straight in the eye. Clover smiled gently, hesitantly. What was it thinking?

The crow’s head tilted from side to side, before snuffling closer to press its beak against Clover’s temple, letting out a soft “bbrrr”. Without another noise, the creature began rubbing its beak into him, opening its mouth to scratch up against the short hairs on the side of Clover’s head. He stood completely still as he was preened, completely unsure of what to make of it. He noticed Ruby staring up at them both, still clutching Ladybug with an iron grip, so he made slow deliberate moves to kneel down so the little one could see the bird. She beamed as she watched it working away at Clover’s hair, diligently, affectionately. It tickled immensely but Clover tried his best to stay still, his cheek pressing against the crow’s wing when he smiled.

When the crow seemed satisfied, it hopped away and perched on Clover’s knee with its head ducked down. He frowned a little as it tried to figure out what was wrong. Was it sad? It looked guilty, the way it bent its head. Or did he not understand...?

“Maybe,” Catherine said softly, nearly making Clover jump with his close she was, “maybe he wants a head scratch. He just gave you a good clean, after all.”

“You know lots about birds.” Ruby whispered, leaning over and giving the bird the tiniest pet on its head. It cooed softly, and pecked Clover’s finger lightly.

Clover chuckled at the strangely lovely corvid, and stroked the back of its head, threading two fingers through the feathers on the back of its head while trying to avoid messing up the way the feathers sat. The bird seemed happy, and until the end of break, he sat there with the crow on his knee, happily clicking and cooing as he pet it. Ruby sat down by him on one side and happily played with Ladybug, over the moon she had her favourite toy back, and Catherine brought over the other children to watch the crow.

“Isn’t he a pretty bird?” She’d say, but it never fluffed out its feathers the same way it did when Clover called it pretty. For whatever reason, it liked the man.

Soon, break was over, and Catherine helped Lapis round up the children and bring them in. The crow watched the children, before tilting its head to look up at Clover as if it knew.

“Yep, we all have to go back inside.” He said, as if it would have any clue what he was talking about. But then, he had no clue how much it might understand. There was knowledge in those wine-red eyes, there was understanding. There was affection.

Ruby reached over and gave the bird a little pet on the head once again. “Thank you for looking after Ladybug for me.” She clutched the toy close, and the bird croaked, before spreading out its wings and flying up and over the wall, out of sight.

Clover got up and stared at the wall for a few moments, taking in the bizarre nature of the situation. Perhaps the bird was trained, perhaps it was domesticated. Whatever the reason, he found he was hoping to see it again at lunch. When – if, when? – he went back to Atlas, he knew he was going to miss that bird. Was he going back to Atlas? What was he going to do?

He still didn’t know, and time to think of an answer was running out. He sighed and turned, taking Ruby’s hand in his and walking over to the door to enter the classroom.

That was when he heard screaming. Qrow screaming.


	25. Chapter 25

Clover turned sharply; the sound came from behind the wall, loud and clear. He let go of Ruby’s hand and ran to the wall, jumping and grabbing the ledge before pulling himself over it. The movement made his back throb as the vertebrae twisted in a way they weren’t used to, but he didn’t care. He knew that was Qrow’s voice.

His heart was in his throat. Besides the tiny excuse of a park next to the nursery, the only thing surrounding Clover was a woodland area. Thin trees speckled the area, the ground overrun with nettles and weeds and tall grass long overdue a trim. The air was dry in his throat, tepid to everyone else but burning in Clover’s lungs.

A stretch of land before him and there was Qrow, half-suspended from a low hanging branch on a tree. An animal trap, some kind of leg-holder, had been set up and hidden in the flurry of leaves and bark. His ankle was caught in the wretched thing, holding his leg up stubbornly, but the branch was low enough to allow the rest of Qrow to lay uselessly on the ground. A tangle of knots and chains surrounded the trap, tightly binding much of his leg up to his knee, and he was gripping the cold metal and unyielding rope for dear life. Clover bolted to his side, trying to switch his mind into autopilot just so he could think clearly. Qrow was still crying out in pain, filling the space between his ears. He snapped off the rest of the branch, at least allowing Qrow to lower his leg. Clover knelt down as Qrow still swore and gripped his leg as if that would somehow help, clawing at the rope until his fingertips were red raw.

“What happened?! What are you doing here?!” Clover shook his head, putting a hand on Qrow’s thigh to hold his leg still. He recognized the knots in the rope, but the chain would prove harder. Not to mention the metal leg trap digging gruesomely into Qrow’s ankle.

“IT FUCKING HURTS!” Was all that Qrow could shout in response. The sickness in Clover’s stomach made him a bit dizzy, seeing the man he loved in such agony. He’d never seen Qrow like this, his skin white and clammy, his jaw clenched so tight Clover was shocked his teeth didn’t crack.

He had to focus. He had to help.

Finally Lapis had managed to get open the relatively out-of-the-way fire exit, a little door near a corner of the wall that Clover was in too much of a rush to use, and she ran over to the pair.

“Brothers-light-and-dark! What happened?!” She paled at the mess of Qrow’s foot, of his ankle. The clamps of the trap were gripping him tightly, bending his foot at an angle that feet should not ever bend.

“Call an ambulance!” Clover ordered, looking back to the leg trap. It was the sort of horrid trap some animal catcher would use on large birds or woodland critters. Big steel clamps pressed down on Qrow’s ankle, but Clover spotted two setting springs he could use to release the clamps. He’d have to move Qrow’s leg, but it had to be done. He tried his best to block out the screams as he moved Qrow’s entire leg for better access, setting his bloodied foot firmly down on the soil, and wiped the sweat off his hands onto his joggers. He pressed down on the setting springs and hunched forward, leaning all his weight into it until the clamps slowly pulled back, the springs clearly too tight for a normal person to open. Who in high hell put this contraption out here?! If that poor bird from earlier got its leg caught... it would have cut clean through the spindly limbs like a hot knife through butter. He didn’t dare think about what it would do to one of the children, to Ruby. To think of her little hand caught in the thing....

Clover blinked the image away, put his efforts back to the moment he was in, keeping his fists clenched around the trap to keep it open. Clover could see Qrow’s toes twitching, moving the tip of his shoe; that was a good sign. Qrow hissed as the clamp was undone, relieving the pressure, but at least his ragged breathing was better than his screams. It meant progress. “You’re gonna be alright.” Clover tried to assure him, gingerly holding onto the trap. He couldn’t let go otherwise his hands could catch in the clamps as well. “You’re... you’re gonna be alright.”

“They’re on their way.” Lapis offered, holding her scroll tightly.

“I need you to lift his foot out, Lapis.” Clover turned to her.

“Don’t! Don’t fucking touch me!” Qrow was roaring; Lapis went paler, but Clover kept his eyes locked with hers.

“My hands are going to get caught in the trap and I can’t hold it open forever. Lift. His. Foot.”

Lapis swallowed, and moved around so she couldn’t see Qrow’s face. They both cringed as she lifted his leg, every movement accompanied by a hoarse shriek of pain. Qrow’s foot hung limp at his ankle, the unnatural bend seemingly fixed by the way it was crushed into place. Clover wanted to throw up. He wanted to hold Qrow close and make the pain go away. He wanted to find whoever put this damn trap out and let the clamps close around their damn face.

But for now he focused on Qrow. As soon as his leg was set back down and Lapis was out of the way, Clover moved himself so he could angle his hands, finally able to let go and let the device snap shut viciously without anyone getting hurt... or at least, getting hurt even worse.

“That’s it, that’s the worst of it, you’re fine. You’re fine, Qrow.” Clover rambled, shifting so he could kneel by his boyfriend’s side.

“I’m not fine! I’m obviously not fine!”

“You are, it’s going to be okay.” Clover held his hand, and Qrow squeezed until his knuckles went white (and Clover’ went red). “Just breathe.”

“I’m! Fucking! _Breathing_!” Qrow covered his face with his other hand before Clover grabbed it suddenly and held it down to his chest.

“You need to _calm down_.” Clover narrowed his eyes at Qrow, a military switch flipped in his head. “You need to stop screaming. And you need to breathe.”

Clover held his hands, his grip as firm as his voice. He felt he sounded confident, as if his heart wasn’t unravelling with every strumming beat against his steel sternum. He kept his eyes locked with Qrow’s, willing him to do as he was told for once in his life. Perhaps it was the authority in Clover’s voice, perhaps it was the pain he was in, but he did manage to soften his cries down to groans and heavy breaths sucked in through his teeth. Clover sighed; although all he could do now was sit with him, stroke the back of Qrow’s hands with his thumbs, he took solace in knowing he was bringing some comfort to Qrow. “There we go, there we go. I know it hurts, love.”

Sirens echoed through the distant wind, bringing a spark of hope to Clover. He ran a hand through Qrow’s hair, damp with sweat, slicking back his fringe. He felt guilty for even noticing – now was not the time nor place – but Qrow looked pretty with his hair pushed back. Even when his face was scrunched up in pain.

“What are you doing here, love?” Clover frowned softly, wiping away a droplet of sweat on Qrow’s temple.

“I... I...” Qrow breathed, and Clover glanced back at the chains and rope still binding his leg to the broken branch laying by his feet. Had he been _in_ the tree? Why? Why was he even here? It wasn’t time to pick Ruby up, not until the afternoon. “Ngh, it hurts...!”

“Paramedics are nearly here. I’m here.” He squeezed Qrow’s sweaty hand again, leaning down and ignoring the hot sting of pain crawling up his back from the motion in order to land a gentle kiss on Qrow’s forehead. “I’m not going to leave your side.”

\---

Catherine kept the children in the classroom as Qrow was put on a stretcher and carried to the ambulance, Clover moving with the unit. Lapis promised she’d explain what happened to Ruby so he could stay with Qrow, and he was grateful to the woman. He watched Qrow start to relax once a paramedic sedated him, and Clover himself was flooded with relief at seeing his boyfriend finally at some peace with the pain. He kept their hands locked together, threaded his fingers through Qrow’s feathered hair.

It wasn’t until they were in the hospital, when Qrow was on a bed in the Minor Emergencies ward, that Qrow began to properly slip in and out of consciousness once the stronger painkillers were administered. They needed more painkillers for resetting his foot into a proper position, and Clover tried not to cringe, tried not to look. All the while Clover sat with him, explained what happened to the doctors, kept Qrow awake when he needed to.

The hospital set Clover on edge, and he tried not to think of why. The long months he’d spent in recovery were gruelling, boring. Painful. He wanted to gloss it over in his mind, wanted the memory to fade, but it had been one of the worst times of his life. The smell of cleaning fluid and latex and rubber blocked up his nose, left a film of dust along the inner lining of his lungs. The colours of sterility, saturated blue and yellowing white, loomed over him, trapped him like a bird in a box. The memories of surgery scars and needles pricked over his skin and left him aching with pains that weren’t there. A ghost of his own pain, a phantom that gripped his heart with long sterilized fingers. He’d not admitted it to himself before, but the first few weeks of living in Vale left him struggling to sleep without the sound of monitors beeping and whirring. He’d gotten too used to the hospital – it wasn’t a comfort by any means, but it had become the norm. He bought a loud ticking clock just to make up for the stretches of nightly silence.

A scan later, and all they could do was wait.

“It was nice,” Qrow slurred as he flexed his fingers, rubbing them against Clover’s, “it’s always nice seein’ you with the kids... they like you.”

Clover smiled. “They good kids, all of them. That crow found Ruby’s toy.” Just then he remembered the texts Qrow sent before Ruby had got her ladybug back. Saying he’d found something... then the crow came along...

“Must have been by the front door the whole time,” Qrow smiled dopily as he shut his eyes, “I knew Ruby was gonna be so happy. So happy...”

Clover kept himself from frowning until after Qrow had slipped back into sleep. The _bird_ found the toy, not Qrow – but _how_ did the bird find it? Was this just the rambling of a man dosed up on meds? Or was there something going on here...?

“You’ve got such soft hair, solider boy...”

Clover stared at Qrow as he tilted his head to look up at the man from his bed, wine-red eyes gazing through thick black lashes. This was weird. This was really, really weird.

Qrow wasn’t a damn bird.

Clover banished the thought before it truly took hold, but what else did all this mean? And at that question there came more thoughts, more memories he’d dismissed initially. The bird that he caught sleeping in the house during the storm. _Qrow_ apologized for the _bird_ pecking him. And at nursery, the crow always sat and squawked at Ruby, specifically. And it was always a crow.

There was... there was a crow in the forest. The field trip with the Grimm. Qrow was there, he’d just appeared out of nowhere.

Ozpin’s comment he’d overheard about his apartment. “ _It would make for a nice nest, would it not?_ ”

“You okay, lucky charm?” Qrow’s drawl came quietly to Clover.

“...Yeah, yeah. Just worried about you, love.” Clover smiled softly; it technically wasn’t a lie.

“Aww... you’re sweet. You’re always sweet.” Qrow smiled back, still holding one of Clover’s hands. “My very own lucky charm.” They stayed in silence for some time, for so long in fact that Clover thought Qrow had fallen asleep again. But then his voice broke the silence again, a quiet crack in the noiseless room to accompany the monitors. “Summer said I’d find someone nice like you. I thought she was jus’ tryin’ to make me feel better.”

Clover smiled weakly at that, until Qrow hissed in pain as a muscle in his leg spasmed, trying to resist the tension.

“Relax, Qrow.” Clover soothed him, putting a hand on his knee.

Qrow groaned. “Summer’s... Tai, she’s not... she’s not...” His face crumpled a little as he spoke, gripping Clover’s hand in his, before a deep exhale signalled that he’d properly nodded off. Clover frowned, not knowing what he meant.

Clover sighed, fatigue now setting into his own bones; he felt weary, old. What a chaotic morning. On that thought, he checked his scroll. It really was still morning. “Fuck me.” He grumbled under his breath.

“Ahem.”

Clover shot up to look at the doctor who’d just arrived, the doctor who absolutely heard him mutter. She was a stern, short woman, who simply cleared her throat once again and pulled the hospital curtain closed upon entering the cubicle. “Branwen?”

“Yes. Well, I mean,” he gestured to Qrow, “he is.”

The doctor nodded and flicked on her holo-pad, standing by Clover to show him the images appearing on the screen. “The trap broke his ankle, but luckily it was a relatively clean break and it hasn’t broken the skin.” She gestured to a x-ray of Qrow’s foot, pointing her finger at the break. The white had a slightly bluish tint against the harsh black of the image; it looked eerie. “The surrounding ligaments are also sprained. Not torn, though. I’m going to give him something to bring the swelling down, and after that, we can operate to set the bone. With any luck, it will be nice and easy – only a few hours.”

Clover sighed in relief. Qrow’s foot had looked so _wrong_ earlier, he’d honestly been a bit nervous. There was no way in Remnant it wasn’t broken, but at least he could find some solace in knowing the damage was reversible. “Good. That’s good. How long do you think recovery could be?”

“Well, considering how clean the break was, the average injury like this would take from 6 weeks to 2 months.” The doctor explained. “However, considering his Aura levels, it could only take a month. If he keeps weight off the ankle and gives it time to heal, it’ll be smooth sailing.”

Clover chuckled at that. Keeping Qrow off his feet might prove a bit bothersome, but he’d have to find a way. But the longer he thought about it, the more troublesome it became. The girls obviously won’t be able to get to school and nursery by themselves. Nor would they be able to make their own food, sort out their clothes...

Clover thought more about it as he watched the doctor wake Qrow up (best as they both could), and she did her best explaining the situation to him. He was clearly too drowsy to take in any of the information, and he fell asleep as soon as the doctor left.

Clover knew that feeling too well – he’d been so doped up during his recovery that his memories of the time were fast waning, leaving him with little more than afterimages of the ward, faceless doctors and nurses. An oxygen mask strapped to his face. Cold metal.

His back felt cold. He zipped up his hoodie and tried to convince himself it helped. He stroked Qrow’s hair and sat with him silently, looking through his scroll absent-mindedly.

It was around lunchtime now at the nursery. He wondered if Ruby was okay, if Catherine and Lapis were doing alright. All that screaming... did it frighten the children? Poor little things.

As if on cue, his scroll rung, showing Catherine’s number on the screen. Qrow grimaced as the ringtone threated to rouse him, and Clover answered swiftly to avoid disturbing him. “Hey, Catherine. Everything okay on your end?” He stroked Qrow’s soft hair soothingly as he spoke, willing him to stay resting.

“We’re all fine, the little ones are just a tad confused. Lapis said that was Ruby’s uncle...” She ended the sentence on a note that made it sound more like a question.

Clover sighed. “He broke his ankle, but he’ll be alright. Nothing serious.”

“Why was he here? Why was he _behind_ the nursery?”

“You tell me.” He shrugged as he spoke. “I think it might be best if I stayed with him though... is that alright?”

“Yes, yes! Of course, pet. Me and Lapis will man the forts here.” He could hear her smile in her voice.

He thanked her and they both hung up, and not long after Qrow came to once again. Clover smiled as he was graced by those eyes, the colour hanging between deep wine and nightly roses. “There you are, sleeping beauty.”

Qrow groaned a little but relented and smiled back. “Ow.”

“Understandable. You broke your ankle.”

“Oh great, my dream come true.” Qrow glared up at the ceiling like it had offended him.

“Did you hear the doctor earlier?” Clover watched Qrow shake his head, as he suspected, and recapped.

Qrow frowned, making himself sit up with a grunt. “I can’t get an operation. Not when I have Yang and Ruby to look after.”

“It’s the only way to sort out your foot, love.” Clover soothed him, but Qrow shook his head.

“I can’t just sit out a month! I need to look after them!”

“Qrow, you know you can’t just leave your ankle as it is.” Clover gave him a look. “Sometimes you have to look after yourself in order to look after them. This isn’t exactly debateable.”

Qrow exhaled, looking down in disappointment and anger at his leg. “I’m so stupid, I can’t believe I got caught in that damn trap!”

“You’re not stupid.” Clover paused. “On that note... why were you... why were you at the nursery?”

The anger drained from Qrow’s face, and he glanced away. “A uh... there was something I had to do.”

“Like a mission?”

“You could say that.”

Clover bit his inner cheek. “What did you mean in your texts?”

“In my...?” He looked up at Clover, scratching the back of his neck. Clover wasn’t sure if he was avoiding the question or genuinely didn’t remember.

“You said you found something.” He explained. “Ruby’s toy?”

Qrow looked surprised. Then, a little guilty.

“Said you found it by the front door?” He narrowed his eyes, trying to work it out in a way that didn’t result in Qrow having magical bird abilities – or didn’t result in him lying about his Semblance. If, _if_ he had that ability, surely it being a Semblance would be the only way it could be possible, right? But then... why would he lie? “But... a crow came to the nursery yesterday, and dropped off the toy. Qrow, what aren’t you telling me?”

Qrow was quiet, very quiet. He pointed his gaze at the end of the bed, before sighing and laying back into the pillows. “You got me.”

Clover waited for an explanation.

“I can’t.... I can’t say everything, I just can’t right now, Cloves. You have to understand that.” He looked over at Clover with guilt in his eyes. “But the shortest answer is that I can turn into a bird.”

Clover stared at him.

“Yeah, I know that sounds stupid out loud.”

“No, no it’s not that.” Clover shook his head. He furrowed his eyebrows. “How?”

“That’s not something I’m allowed to say. Believe me, Clover, I want to tell you. I want to be as honest as I can with you.” He placed his hand over Clover’s, his expression sombre. “But I can’t. I just can’t. And I know I’m asking a lot of you to trust me when I’m not telling you everything.”

Clover sighed, trying to wrap his head around this reality. “I don’t... is this your Semblance? Is this...?”

“No. You have no idea how much I’d love to change my Semblance into... literally anything,” he took a deep breath, pain in his eyes as he looked down at their hands, “but this ability is plain old fashioned magic.”

Clover shook his head. “Magic doesn’t exist.”

Qrow scoffed. “You’d be surprised. There’s so much about this world that you just don’t know about, Cloves.” He hesitated, before squeezing his hand. “There’s so much I want to show you.”

Clover glanced back down at their hands, their entwined fingers. Slowly, he brought Qrow’s hand to his lips and kissed his knuckles. “I don’t understand this, I don’t get how any of this makes sense... but I know you’re not lying to me.”

“Of course I’m not lying,” Qrow relaxed at the chaste kisses on his hand, “are you... is this not... weird to you?”

“Of course it’s weird, I’m still trying to understand it all. But... it’s not a bad kind of weird.”

“Then what kind of weird is it...?” Qrow asked apprehensively.

“It’s the best kind of weird. It’s your kind of weird.” Clover smiled.

Qrow went pink, and scoffed. He crossed his arms and turned away from Clover before the man could catch the evidence of his smile, the corners of his lips curling up unmistakably. “I’m being serious.”

“So am I.”

“You’re a sap.”

“I am.”

Qrow rolled his eyes but he was grinning from ear to ear now. But the grin diminished as he looked back as his bandaged foot. “I still can’t just... what am I going to do with the girls?”

“...I could always look after them. Or help, at least.” Clover suggested. It would only be for a few weeks, after all.

Qrow looked back over at Clover in confusion.

“I already work with Ruby. I could come and pick them up, drop them off, I could help out at the house if you need.”

“No, no you don’t have to do that.” Qrow shook his head. “You’ve already done more than enough.”

“It’s not about that.” Clover chuckled. “Shockingly enough, Qrow, I enjoy spending time with those two. I enjoy spending time with you, too.”

Qrow was unsure what to say to that. “You... It’s a lot of work, Clover. Brothers know you have enough on your plate as it is.”

“And so do you. I want to help, Qrow.” Clover reassured him. “Let me do this. I’ll even spoil you rotten while you heal up.”

Qrow smiled, almost shy if Clover looked close enough. “I can’t ask this of you.”

“You’re not asking. I’m insisting.” Not wanting to be too pushy, he leaned back into his chair and tried to sound more casual. “Well, if you don’t trust me around the house or the girls, I’d be more than happy to help find a babysitter or something – ”

“No, no, it’s not that. Of course I trust you.” Qrow said quickly. “I went to Atlas with you, didn’t I? Of course it’s not that.”

Clover chuckled softly. “It’s nice that you trust me. I’m happy I’ve earned it.” Clover sat up in the uncomfortable hospital chair. “If you really think it’s too much, then you can always pay me back once you’re healed up.”

“Oh really?” Qrow tried not to make it look awkward as he shifted to turn to Clover without moving his legs too much. “And how do you expect me to pay up, lucky charm?”

Clover smirked, winking as he spoke. “I have a few ideas.”

Qrow laughed softly, deep in his chest, a light rumble that Clover pined for. “You’re going to kill me with that wink one day.”

“Aw, don’t say that.”

“Hey, it’d be the best way to go.” He let out another lovely laugh that made Clover’s heart skip. “...thank you, Cloves. I’m sorry, I must seem so – ”

“Hey, none of that talk.” Clover reassured him. “If you were going to say weak, then no, you don’t. Or any other horrible thing you’ve been led to believe.”

Qrow smiled softly. “...I did do a hell of a lot of screaming.”

“I’ve screamed louder stubbing my toe.” Clover got another laugh out of him, and that was all Clover wanted, really. To hear him laugh.


	26. Chapter 26

Clover didn’t want to leave Qrow in the hospital all on his own. He knew, logically, that Qrow was going to be fine. Nothing bad was going to happen. But the smell of bleach and medicine filled the air, leaving his heart stubbornly refusing to settle. Doctors and nurses flittered through the wards like ghosts, their mouths covered by masks and their eyes vacant, distracted. He didn’t feel safe here, and he hated the thought of leaving Qrow alone in a place that Clover couldn’t trust.

But there was nobody else to get the girls from school. And if there was one thing Clover could never get in the way of, it was Qrow making sure his girls were alright. It was only after a quick kiss (and Qrow threatening to set the nurses on him) that Clover finally left and made his way back to the nursery. The last he heard as he left was Qrow phoning Yang’s school to get clearance for Clover to come get her at home time.

There was only about an hour left on the cat-shaped clock, and Catherine was sitting with the children in Storytime Corner once again to help them wind down after a long, tiring day of playing. When Clover came back in, though, they all turned their attention to the man. Ruby leaped out of Lapis’ lap to hug one of Clover’s legs. “Uncle Qrow? Uncle Qrow?” She asked, agitated. He could tell the poor thing had been crying from the redness in her nose and the puffiness in her round face. She sniffled.

“Uncle Qrow’s okay, he’s going to be just fine.” He wiped her nose with a flick of his thumb, scooping her up and carrying her over to where the other children were.

“Is Ruby’s uncle dead?” Henry asked.

“Henry!” Lapis hissed.

“Don’t say things like that. He’s fine, he just hurt his foot.” He said firmly as Ruby clung to his hoodie. He was mostly saying it for her benefit as opposed to the rest of the kids, who looked more curious than worried.

Aurora raised her hand. “Are you going out with Ruby’s uncle?”

“Uh, yeah. Yes I am.”

Teal piped in. “Are you in love?”

Clover smiled. “...Yes I am.”

“Are you going to have babies?!” Orchid grinned. “Wait, how do you have – ?”

Catherine cut her off quickly, “If we could get back to the story, please?” She waved the book up. “Clover has had a very long day dealing with boring grown-up things, so I’m sure he’d love to hear how this story ends. Okay, everyone?”

The children buzzed with energy as Clover joined the group, letting Ruby sit in his lap. He noticed she had her pacifier out, chewing on the worn silicone nib to cope with the stress. He stroked her soft puff of black hair as Catherine and Lapis put on funny voices for the characters in the book, but he could tell Ruby wasn’t really listening – it was in the way she stared straight ahead, as if tired, as if dazed, when normally she’d be peering wide-eyed at whoever was talking, her head darting back and forth between the two teachers, the silver in her eyes swirling with curiosity and delight. Toying with the lace on her socks or the trim on her shorts. She did at least tug on the little legs of Ladybug, but with much less enthusiasm.

He couldn’t blame her; he was guilty of not being able to focus on the story either. The magic in the book didn’t seem to compare to the revelations the day had already held for him. Callows was in Atlas? Qrow being able to turn into a bird? A _bird_? He’d seemed way too coherent to have just been rambling painkiller-induced nonsense. That, added with whatever the hell a Maiden was, and this mysterious Salem figure... the more Clover got to know Qrow, the more he realized he didn’t know him at all. And not only did that worry him, it saddened him. The Qrow he knew... that was the real him, wasn’t it? It felt genuine.

Clover _did_ love him. And he felt like Qrow loved him back.

He tried to clear his head of the thought. It was classified information. It wasn’t _personal_. It wasn’t about love or trust, it was about whatever mission Qrow had at hand. And Clover couldn’t stand in the way of that, the same way he didn’t expect Qrow to stand in the way of whatever _he_ may have to do.

It wasn’t personal.

Clover was glad that Yang’s school day ended at around the same time as the nursery shift, making it so much easier picking both of the little monsters up. He let Catherine know what was going on once they finally had a moment, and she was more than happy for him to leave with Ruby. He helped Ruby button up her cardigan, congratulating her when she managed to do the last button all by herself. He carried her bag, keeping her tiny hand in his – so tiny were her hands that she pretty much only needed to cling to his thumb. He found it awkward to walk with her, with how tiny she was and how she wobbled on her legs. She wasn’t a toddler anymore, but she seemed to be late with blooming out of the habits of a post-infant child. No wonder Qrow simply opted with carrying her, although Clover suspected that doing that so much was resulting in little Ruby growing to depend on being carried as opposed to walking. Perhaps her overly childish state wasn’t just a result of trauma, a coping mechanism like Lapis had proposed. It could very much be that, but at the same time, Qrow did coddle Ruby significantly as though she really was still a baby.

Clover adored the sweet girl, but he wanted to help her grow. She wasn’t going to be a baby forever, after all. The world wasn’t going to see her as such forever, either. So he put up with the awkward shuffling in order to let her get used to walking without the respite of eventually being carried the rest of the way. It was – quite literally – baby steps.

Yang looked surprised to see Clover with her little sister at the school gate, and she ran over to the pair. “Where’s Uncle Qrow?”

“Accident.” Ruby rubbed her eyes tiredly before Clover got the chance to talk.

Yang paled a little, her lunchbox nearly slipping from her grasp. and she looked up at Clover. “Where is he? Is he okay? Is Uncle Qrow okay?!”

“He’s fine, Yang, he’s – ”

“Is he dead?! Did he die?! Where is he?!” She dropped her lunchbox and tugged Clover’s free hand, and he ushered her to the side so they at least weren’t blocking the gate. He tried to ignore the funny looks he got from other parents – resisted the urge to loudly point out that it wasn’t any of their business.

“No, Yang, he’s fine. He’s in hospital.” He explained, grabbing her lunchbox and bringing her close. He tried to get the words out before she got too upset, before the tears welling in her eyes started spilling down her cheeks. “He just hurt his foot. It’s nothing to worry about.”

Yang took the information in slowly. “So he’s not... he’s okay?”

Clover smiled. “He’s fine. It’s just a broken ankle. I was going to bring you both to the hospital to see him.”

Yang seemed filled with relief, the tension draining from her small body. “I don’t want him to die, I don’t ever want him to die.”

“Hey, he’s got me, remember?” He ruffled Yang’s hair. “I won’t let anything horrible happen to him.”

Yang hesitated, before nodding slowly and taking her little sister’s free hand.

\---

The trip to the hospital took twice as long with two tiny children, making sure they both stayed in Clover’s line of sight, that they didn’t bump into people. And they were slow compared to him. He didn’t realize he walked so fast, but he found he was constantly stopping and starting, trying to consciously slow himself down to a snail’s pace so he wasn’t dragging either girl behind him.

It would have taken less time to train a Beowolf to use a litter box.

At last, though, they found themselves in the elevator of the hospital leading up to the ward Qrow was on.

“This place smells weird.” Yang crinkled her nose. “Like the girl’s bathroom at school.”

“Why is everyone in a mask?” Ruby pointed to her face, trying hard to form a bigger sentence than usual with the stress she was under.

“To keep people safe in case they cough or sneeze.” Clover explained. “Everyone here is here because they’re sick or injured, so the doctors and nurses have to be extra careful.”

“Why aren’t we wearing masks, then?” Yang tilted her head.

“Well... we don’t need to, because we’re not sick.”

“But we could _get_ sick from the people who are already sick. That’s what my science teacher told me.”

“Uhm...” Clover couldn’t really argue, but luckily the elevator doors opened and he could distract them from the question he had no true answer for.

He took them down to the ward, Qrow’s cubicle one of the only ones with the curtains pulled completely shut. Of course. Clover pulled back the saturated blue curtain, the material more plastic than fabric, and Yang bolted to Qrow’s side. Thankfully he was fully awake, and Clover helped Yang clamber up onto the bed for a tight hug. “Hey, firecracker!” Qrow’s face lit up as he hugged his oldest niece.

“What happened?!” Yang nuzzled into her uncle, situating herself on his lap as Clover picked Ruby up and let her scramble onto the bed to make room for herself in her uncle’s arms.

“Nothing serious,” Qrow explained, “your stupid uncle fell out of a tree and broke his foot. Look.” He gestured down his long leg to his foot which was now in a temporary white cast, his pants leg rolled up and his shoe and sock placed idly on the edge of the bed.

“You’re not stupid,” Clover berated gently, “it was an accident.”

“A stupid accident.” Qrow scowled, and the same doctor from earlier came in before Clover could argue. She smiled politely at the two children clinging to Qrow, before looking at the man himself and gesturing to his foot.

“Due to it being such a minor surgery, I can have you booked in to reset the bone late this afternoon. There is a possibility that you may need to stay overnight, however – ”

“Wait, an operation?” Yang looked up at the doctor and back at her uncle, at Clover. “I thought you said he was going to be fine.”

“I am, sweetie,” Qrow stroked her hair, twirling the sunshine locks between his long fingers, “I just broke my ankle a funny way. The doctor will put it back and then it can heal properly.”

“But you can’t come home yet?” She looked heartbroken, and Clover’s heart sung for the girl.

“If he does have to stay, it will only be for one night.” The doctor gave the girls a patient look. “And then he can go straight home.”

Yang still looked sad, and she hugged Qrow’s chest, burying her face into the v-shaped spot of available skin where his top remained unbuttoned. Ruby looked between Clover and her uncle, clinging to his arm. “Can we stay?”

“A little longer, but I want you girls home at a reasonable time, okay? I don’t want you both stuck here with me. You’ll cramp my style.” He gave a wry grin when Yang looked up at him, and she sniffled, tried to stiffen the wobble of her bottom lip.

Clover gave a small smile as the doctor explained the time and risks of the op, and gave Qrow a checklist for an overnight bag. And with that she was gone.

“I can bring you up what you need.” Clover offered, as if Qrow had much choice.

Knowing this, he smiled gratefully. “Thank you, Cloves. I know this is a lot to put up with – ”

“No, no. It’s honestly fine.” Clover waved him off.

“At least take this to get some takeout for tonight, these two brats deserve a treat,” he took out his wallet, holding out a few Lien cards to Clover.

“No, don’t be silly – ”

“Take it - you spoiled us in Atlas and you’re helping us out now. Least I can do is pay for a meal.”

“Really, it’s not a big deal...”

Yang snatched the Lien cards suddenly. “I’ll have it if Clover doesn’t want it!”

“Hey - !” Qrow jumped as Yang hopped off the bed. “Yang - !”

Clover had to run after the giggling bundle of golden curls as she ran around the empty space of the ward. Unlike Ruby, she was a lot faster, more ductile and skilled on her feet – especially for a girl of 6 years. Of course Clover caught her eventually, lifting her up and trying to pull the money off her between fits of laughter, but it was a lie if he said he wasn’t impressed with how long such a small child managed to evade him.

\---

It was late when the pizza arrived. It felt strange, admittedly awkward to stay in Qrow’s house alone with his nieces. Clover was so happy he was trusted with them, with being in the home without being watched, but as much as Qrow went over his routine with the girls Clover was still worried about messing it up.

But, despite everything, the girls seemed happy in his company. Happier still when he answered the door to the boxes of pizza and sides he’d let them pick out. Ruby pretended to feed Ladybug a pepperoni slice, getting red grease on the toy’s fabric face, while Yang folded two slices of pizza together to form a single pizza sandwich of sorts.

“So, how was school today?” He asked Yang.

“It was good, I learned about dragons.” She nodded as she spoke between the chewed up pieces of pizza.

“Your class learned about dragons?”

“ _I_ learned about dragons. I dunno what everyone else was doing.”

Clover gave her a look. “That’s no attitude for a future Huntress, Yang.”

Yang looked up angrily at that. “Hey! I’m gonna be a great Huntress! I’ll be better than you!”

“Not if you don’t focus in class.” Clover crossed his arms. “Unless you try to be the best you can be at everything you do, you’ll never get to where you want to be.”

Yang grumbled, but Ruby looked up happily. “Keep moving forward. Mommy used to say that.”

Clover nodded, smiling as he finished what he wanted. “Your mommy must have been a smart person.”

“She was great.” Yang confirmed, a little more quiet than before. “She helped me learn to count and do my multi – mul – mlut – mulpli – ”

“Multiplications?” Clover helped.

Yang nodded eagerly. “Is your mommy smart?”

Clover hesitated, then he smiled as he leaned back into his seat. “She was... she had a big heart, more than anything.”

Yang nodded. “Was she a Huntress?”

“No, in fact she was... just a regular person.” Clover shrugged. “Anyway, finish up and get your teeth brushed. It’s late, and your uncle has given me strict orders.”

Both the girls groaned but eventually did as they were told, and it wasn’t long that they were both in bed. Clover finally had a moment to sit down to himself. Some time to be alone. Perhaps Qrow was going in for surgery around now... Clover wanted to be there with him. But this was what Qrow asked, and whatever it took to help him, Clover wanted to do.

He was surprised how close he’d gotten to Qrow, to his strange but charming little family. How privy he was to the man’s turbulence, his grief, his guilt. He couldn’t imagine the anguish he’d gone through, losing his teammates, his family. His tribe, sister. So closely after another. Clover knew a hint of that pain, the loneliness that followed.

Clover wasn’t even home when his mother had passed away. She’d downplayed how serious the sickness was, presumably to let him focus on his studies up in Atlas. But in the end, it only made her loss much more sudden. Overnight, he’d been taken by the tide and swept out to sea with no anchor; it left him unable to know how to cope with that. So he just... didn’t, for the most part.

He supposed in a weird, roundabout way, he was lucky he didn’t know his father, wouldn’t have to deal with the potential of another loss like that. But he did wonder what it would have been like to have one – a father, that is. Clover got up and looked at a picture framed on the wall, a photo of a blond man with a goofy smile holding a baby. Clover couldn’t quite tell which kid the baby was, for their eyes were closed and their features too underdeveloped to resemble neither Ruby nor Yang. But the man looked so happy, so proud, so tragically _young_. He seemed like he would have been a good father, clearly _was_ a good father based on how the girls were nowadays.

“Taiyang Xiao Long... Tai-Yang... huh.” Clover murmured, only half-listening to his own voice. “I wonder what happened to you, exactly.”

The closet thing Clover really had to a fatherly figure was... well, the General. In his first years at the Academy, most people looked up to Ironwood with admiration, with respect. But Ironwood had taken an interest in Clover, not just in his skill – top of his class, by the way – but in him as a person. His ideals, his sense of responsibility. And when his mother died... the General was kind to him. Empathetic, even, and it was such a rare trait in Ironwood that Clover had to take note of it.

He supposed that was what Clover found so surprising about Qrow’s offhand attitude to the man. He wouldn’t dream of acting so casual to the General, and yet there was Qrow treating him as any other person.

He meandered about the living room, looking at the different dust-coated frames, and wondered silently about Qrow’s parents – if any were alive, or if he even knew them. All he knew was that he had a twin, a woman he wasn’t fond of. Raven.

He thought for a moment.

Qrow was a crow.

Raven... was Raven a raven?

No way. Now that would just be _too_ stupid.

He couldn’t find a single photo of the woman anyway, so he pushed the thought out of his mind as he instead sat back on the sofa, looking over at the picture by his seat. The woman with dark hair, Summer, had two small children held close to her. A toddler with golden hair and a baby cradled to her chest. She looked sweet, happy, almost too young to be a mother and far too young to be dead.

It saddened him in a detached way. He didn’t know either of them, but he knew through Qrow. He knew the impact they must have had on him. He’d been... undeniably sad. The grief had curved him downward, dragging him down until he was bowed. It was in the way he walked, engraved in his shoulders and the expression on his face. Clover just wanted to take it away. He had held so much in for the sake of those sweet girls, until he just... couldn’t.

Clover was sure the man was still embarrassed about their first official date, but it really wasn’t something that bothered Clover. It was cathartic, and he was happy he was there for Qrow. It was in those memories that he realized that he _did_ know Qrow, he did know his pains and his anxieties and his ideals. At least, he knew some of it.

Maybe it wasn’t the whole truth, Clover realized, but it was still some of the truth. And that was better than an outright lie. All this mysterious business with Salem, with the Beacon Headmaster and the General and the Maidens... it wasn’t personal.

What was personal was knowing that Qrow could open up to him, that Qrow enjoyed talking to him, sitting with him, touching him, loving him. That was the true Qrow that Clover got to see, and it was a privilege to see that.

And yet he wanted more.

When it came to Qrow Branwen, Clover always wanted more.

It was late now. Clover decided that there was no harm in retiring to the spare room down the hall for the night. How many nights had he stayed in this house on-and-off now? Funnily enough, Clover had started seeing this place as more homely than his actual apartment. That apartment just seemed like a temporary place, a living space to be stationed in during a far-away mission. But this house was a home, it was worn in, it was settled. It was loved dearly. He found that love in the toys scattered about, in the mess Qrow was clearly too busy to tidy up properly. In the dust on the frames and the dips in the couch seats. It reminded him of his own home. Of his own mother.

There was something important about his pin nobody else was aware of. Why he used it to channel his Semblance.

He unpinned it from his shirt and turned it over, peering into the crumpled photo nestled in the hollow behind the pin’s front. A fading photo of a woman with seafoam green eyes that crinkled when she smiled. The name “Chance Ebi” was written at the bottom in smudged black ink, and Clover smiled softly to himself. He put the pin to the bedside table, set an alarm on his scroll, and drifted off to sleep.


	27. Chapter 27

Atlas airships filled the sky with fire, filled Clover’s lungs with black smoke. It felt like the ashen remains of Grimm stuck to his tongue, refusing to disintegrate. Even if there wasn’t a huge blade sticking out of his chest, he still wouldn’t have been able to breathe. He was skewered, pinned to the ground. The icy bed felt more like frozen hands gripping his arms, his legs, his head. His very soul. The snow was burying him alive and he just couldn’t move. Blood filled his mouth but, again, he couldn’t taste it, couldn’t feel its warmth. There was only cold.

He could hear Qrow’s voice. Calling out his name, screaming until his lungs were burning. Qrow was looking for him. He wanted to call out for help, or just let him know everything was alright (even though it wasn’t), but he couldn’t speak. His breath was too weak to stir even the tiniest feather. And the snow was building higher around him.

And the sight of black feathers finally introduced Qrow’s form to Clover’s limited line of vision. Frantic was he, utter panic draped across his features. And Clover was powerless to help him, to even help himself.

And then, just as snow began to overcome him, he heard the laughter. Manic, unhinged giggles, raspy shrieks of lunacy. Callows. He couldn’t cry out, couldn’t warn Qrow. Somewhere out in the tundra, Clover’s heart was pounding. But it wasn’t in his chest. It came from the tundra itself, a deep pulse running under the snowfields.

Harbinger made its way through Qrow’s chest. Hot red splattered over frozen white, freezing solid against the miles of ice.

And Clover woke in the early hours of the morning, bolting up in bed. His heart was throbbing, drumming against his sternum, his skin was coated with sweat. His spine ached up his back like hot metal searing, scratching his skin. He could barely focus on the world around him. On the dark shapes just barely illuminated by the earliest hints of sunlight. The room was filled with the most intense blue, the very colour of silence, of stillness. The colour of being alone.

But Clover wasn’t alone.

There was someone in the room with him.

He turned slowly and looked to the side of his bed, only to be greeted by a round pale face staring blankly at him in the darkness. Ruby’s face was framed with short dark hair and held two huge swirling silver eyes. It took everything in his power to not scream and kick the ghostly child away in fright. But as hard as it was, he managed to ground himself enough to take a deep breath and address the girl quietly, “what – what are you doing up, sweetie?”

Ruby clung to Ladybug in one hand and her new bumblebee toy in the other. Ladybug had indeed been out sitting on the front doorstep all week, but Clover had made sure to wash the toy once he had taken the girls home. Ruby looked away from Clover and rubbed her cheek into the soft fabric of the bee. “Nightmare.” She said meekly.

Clover softened, wiping the sweat off his brow. “Me too.” He admitted, reaching over and turning on the lamp. The room was filled with a soft, golden glow.

Ruby looked back up at him with big scared eyes. “What was yours about?”

Clover hesitated, the afterimages of black smoke and fire and blood filling up his eyes. He shook his head to try and wave away the visions; he was still trembling. He wished Qrow were here, so he could rest his head on the Huntsman’s heart and listen to that steady, warming beat; he needed it to chase away the dread, to steady his own heart. “Nasty grown-up things. Nothing for you to worry about, Ruby.”

Ruby bit her bottom lip, clearly wanting to ask more. But she instead stood in silence.

“Do you want to tell me about yours?” Clover offered, patting the side of the bed in case she wanted to sit by him.

She clambered up until she was perched by Clover, clinging to her two toys for comfort. “Mommy and Daddy.”

Clover softened. This whole time, he’d never actually inquired what precisely had happened. It just... wasn’t his business, he felt. He didn’t want to risk cracking open a new wound on Qrow – he’d seen how upset it had made him, how badly it had affected the man he loved.

Ruby continued in a tiny voice, “They went somewhere and wouldn’t take me with them. Mommy went, and Daddy was really sad. And then Daddy went, and Uncle Qrow was really sad. Then... Uncle Qrow went. And I was all alone. And... there were big monsters outside the house. And I was all alone.” She sniffled, and Clover put an arm around Ruby as his heart ached. She looked up at him as a little tear escaped down her cheek. “Is Uncle Qrow coming back soon?”

“He is, of course he is.” Clover wiped away Ruby’s tears. “It was only a bad dream. Your uncle will be home in no time, I’ll make sure of it.”

“You’re not going, are you?” She clung to his arm suddenly.

“I’ll be going to the hospital tomorrow to bring him straight home, don’t worry.” He soothed her, managing a smile. Clover had to squash down his own lingering fear for Ruby’s sake, but he couldn’t stop the shaking in his hands. “I won’t let you get left all on your own, sweetheart.”

Ruby tried to be brave and she nodded, her bottom lip trembling as she rested her head on Clover’s sweaty arm. “You smell yucky.”

Clover chuckled softly, and tried to change the subject as he spotted a bookshelf on the other side of the spare room. “You know...” he started, “one thing that helps me with nightmares is a good distraction. How about a story?”

Ruby nodded gratefully and watched Clover get up and look through the books, trying to ignore the way his back burned with every movement. There were books on gardening, books on Grimm, a book titled “The Best Dad Jokes In Remnant” (which made Clover chuckle), and old fairytale collections that he went to pick... before he spotted a thick black book with a peeling leather spin and no title. He cocked an eyebrow, and pulled it out carefully, his fingertips running across the old paper. The front was a plain black that had once been decorated by hand; red and white roses had been carefully painted over the cover with a shaking hand, the paint now cracking from its age. “ _Beacon!_ ” had been scrawled across the front. Clover couldn’t quite describe the feeling he got from the book, but... it felt loved.

He gingerly opened it. There was a picture on the front cover of four students all in uniform, all smiling. A blond boy had an angry black-haired girl in a headlock, and a smaller girl with a white cloak stood by them, laughing. And by her... was Qrow. Clover recognized his hair, his smirk. Harbinger resting behind his hips. He looked so much younger, livelier. None of them could have been much older than 17. Delicate but rushed handwriting was scrawled under the glued-in picture, reading _‘TEAM STRQ! (not like “stroke” but like “STARK!”)’_ , and four signatures had been written around the photo. _TAI_ in big bold letters with smeared ink, _Summer Rose_ with a little flower drawn in place of the O, _Qrow_ with a Q so big it nearly engulfed the other letters, and an _R_ with a lazy squiggle instead of writing the full name.

Clover smiled gently, before remembering Ruby sat on the bed behind him. Perhaps he’d get the chance to look through that book another time, with Qrow. He actually realized how rude it would be to go through a book like this without him - turns out Clover was developing a habit of sticking his nose in places he shouldn't. He slotted the book back carefully to try and preserve the peeling paint and leather, before opting for the fairytales instead.

“Well, I think I might wake up your sister if I do any funny voices... but we can still pick out one of these.” He sat by Ruby, who’d since taken the throw at the end of the bed and wrapped it around her shoulders. How she was cold in Vale weather was beyond him, but he made no comment, instead holding out the book’s contents for her to see. Without even looking at the other stories listed, Ruby pressed her finger happily into one of the first titles.

“I like the story of the four maidens.” She said softly.

“That used to be one of my favourites too.” Clover smiled, flicking through the book until they reached that story, and he cleared his throat. “Once upon a time, there was an old wizard...”

He told the story to her, pointing out the drawings of the wizard locked away in his home, the picture of the serene maiden meditating close by. Then he pointed out Spring greeting her sister, chucking handfuls of colourful seeds about the garden.

But by the time he’d gotten to Fall, Ruby was asleep. Her head had lulled forward, resting just so on his chest, and Clover sighed quietly. With slow and precise movements, he put the book down and carefully scooped Ruby up, wrapping the throw around her as though she were a baby. She barely weighed a thing in his arms, so she may have been.

He made sure he had both of her toys too, before he carried the tiny girl up the steps, dodging the odd toy strewn dangerously across the floor. Before long, he was tucking Ruby back into her bed, carefully laying her head down onto her pillows. Ladybug itself was more of a pillow than a toy, so he made sure to rest her head against its plush belly. Ruby was so small, so cute. No wonder Qrow was so protective over her – who wouldn’t be? That strange professor once called her a mouse; Clover could see his point.

He yawned as he shut the door behind him. It wasn’t much longer until morning properly arrived, but he hoped on getting at least a few more hours of sleep.

With heavy feet, Clover wondered back down the hallway, grimacing as a stinging shot of pain ran up his spine, forcing him to stand up straight. He’d learned early on to always carry a blister of painkillers with him... though he hadn’t had to use any for so long. It was pleasant to no longer deal with such pain, but... without the pain, he no longer needed to stay in Patch. He finally admitted to himself, properly, that he didn’t want to leave. Not anymore.

He passed Qrow’s room, noticing the door open just a crack. Peering in, he spotted a little lump in Qrow’s bed, curls of yellow hair flared around the pillow. Clover’s heart softened in his chest, sadness replacing the fear, almost replacing the pain. She missed her uncle already.

Clover only just told Ruby he wouldn’t leave her alone; was he going to be able to keep that promise? Clover would have to leave eventually, but... what if Qrow could go with him to Atlas? Now that was a thought that brought a sudden well of joy to Clover. Was it wishful thinking? Maybe. But it wasn’t an impossible daydream. The thought of spending his days up in Atlas with Qrow, with the girls, as a _family_ , warmed him enough until he nearly forgot the pain entirely. Visions of them together flooded his mind; waking up to the chilly air, with Qrow by his side. Coming home after missions to the sounds of Yang and Ruby playing together, him and Qrow taking turns watching over them as they took missions for the General. Sending the girls off to Atlas Academy once they were old enough. Seeing them graduate...

Clover had never wanted a family. At least, he thought he never did. His mother sometimes joked about wanting grandchildren whenever he brought a boy home in his youth, her laughter only a faint memory in the back of his head now. He’d get flustered and pretend not to hear, the thought of having kids nothing more than irritating to him. But now there he was, creeping around the side of Qrow’s bed to fix the blanket around Yang, to tuck her hair in as gently as he could. There he was, treating these two girls like they were his very own. Technically speaking, they weren’t even Qrow’s – he was their uncle, not their father. But nonetheless, they were a family, and they loved each other with everything they had.

And they accepted Clover so earnestly. And he had never been so lucky in his life.

He realized then that he didn’t just love Qrow. He loved these two sweet, funny, stubborn girls as well. If he went back to Atlas by himself, he wasn’t just leaving behind Qrow, he was leaving Yang and Ruby. And he didn’t know if he could handle that.

But Atlas... Atlas was his home. It had been his home from the very beginning. He was loyal to Atlas, loyal to Ironwood. He needed Atlas. Atlas needed him.

_"Are you sure **they** need **you**?"_ General Ironwood's voice sung in his head, and he frowned. What a thing to say... that wasn't like the General at all. Was it?

He grimaced, tried to think back to the visions of them being in Atlas together. Qrow didn’t like the place (or Ironwood, it appeared)... could he grow to love Atlas as much as Clover did? Perhaps Clover could show him what it was about the place that was so special. How invigorating the chill in the air could be. How efficient the society was. How peaceful the endless fields of snow were.

The snowfields... they were peaceful, yes, when they weren’t decorated with splatters of blood.

Clover sat by the end of Qrow’s bed, and held his head in his hands. He couldn’t deny that his view of that was tainted now. He feared irreversibly so. He didn’t want this fear to encroach on his home like a parasite, a perversion. He felt guilt strike down into his core at the thought of seeing Atlas in such a bad light. This wasn’t how the Ace Ops Captain should think. Clover hadn’t been thinking like the Captain for months now. Where had that man gone? Had Clover left that part of him out in the tundra...?

Clover sighed to himself. He wasn’t going back to sleep anytime soon.

He crept downstairs, and made himself a coffee. He sat outside, on the swinging bench he and Qrow had had their first date on, shared their first kiss. The lonely blue tones of dawn were being fast replaced by streaks of gold, the first trails of warmth slowly filling up the sky. Clover wondered if Qrow was alright. If he was asleep right now. If the surgery had gone well.

He wondered how Qrow would take the idea of moving to Atlas.

But right now, he was too tired to linger on the questions cycling through his mind over and over. The answers could wait.


	28. Chapter 28

As much as Clover clearly wanted to, Qrow didn’t let the Captain carry him home. The metal crutches were a pain in the ass but he still had his pride, and he wasn’t going to be swept off his feet and ferried here and there. He did hate to see the disappointment in Clover’s face though (gods, the man was like a puppy sometimes).

Qrow was truly expecting something to go wrong during surgery. He was expecting to wake up with complications, with the wrong dose of medication, _something_ screwing up. Instead, he woke up groggy and still weak from the sedatives to the sight of Clover. The hospital room was a blur of white and blue around him, and he could barely see his boyfriend, but those seafoam green eyes... even through the morphine haze they were clear as day. He thought he heard Clover speak; he couldn’t remember exactly what he said, but he found his voice comforting.

It was only a few hours after that he was discharged, and Clover was there waiting for him. It warmed his heart to know there was someone waiting, someone eager to see him. If Clover couldn’t carry Qrow, he said, he’d at least carry his overnight bag. Public transport had a natural flare for being difficult at that best of times, and today was no different – the bus ride home was short, though cramped with people chatting, but Clover found Qrow a spare seat.

“I feel guilty taking the last seat.” Qrow grumbled softly.

“Don’t be, you obviously need it.” Clover chuckled as he slung the bag over his shoulder.

“But you don’t have a place to sit.”

Clover leaned in and lowered his voice. “If it means so much to you, you can always sit on my lap.”

Qrow swallowed, before shoving Clover’s arm. “You’re unbelievable.”

Clover simply laughed, ruffling Qrow’s locks and situating himself in front of Qrow for the rest of the ride. The sun was shining, as ever, by the time they got to the house. Clover spied a squirrel up on the roof cleaning its little face before they walked in, and smiled before he shifted his attention on helping his boyfriend. Qrow tried to pretend he hadn’t noticed, but Clover had the loveliest smile. Anyone would think he hadn’t seen a damn squirrel before – then again, he’d lived so long up in the clouds and snow, who knew how long he’d been deprived of such scenery?

“Are the girls at school?” Qrow kept a hand on Clover’s shoulder, gripping his vest as Clover helped him lower himself into the sofa.

“Yeah, Catherine gave me the day off to look after you.” Clover smiled as he helped Qrow settle, plopping his overnight bag down on the carpet.

“You’re joking.” Qrow looked up at Clover, trying to hide his joy with a scoff, feeling the blush rush up his neck into his cheek. A whole day with Clover, uninterrupted... albeit with a broken ankle in a huge chunky cast. “I’m not an infant. You don’t have to hover over me.”

“Well now I’m starting to think you don’t enjoy my company.” Clover smirked, leaning back against the sofa.

“That’s absolutely it, I’m sick of the sight of you.” Qrow drawled sarcastically, smiling as Clover leaned over and kissed the corner of his mouth.

“How are you feeling? Does it hurt?”

“You’ve asked me that about a hundred times now, shamrock.”

“’Shamrock’? Now that’s a new one.” Clover wrapped an arm around Qrow’s shoulders. “But seriously. You shouldn’t have been walking about as much so soon.”

“I have crutches, stop worrying.” Qrow rolled his eyes, leaning and resting his head on Clover’s shoulder – but the movement made him hiss as his foot lulled to the side. He was going to have to get used to the little movements, it seemed.

Clover frowned, delicately pulling himself away from Qrow to reach for the pain killers the hospital had supplied. They were the same brand as Clover’s, though lower in dosage. “Come on, be honest with me. I wanna help.”

“It isn’t your responsibility. Really.” Qrow put his arms up defensively; truthfully he wasn’t used to people worrying over him like this, mothering him like this. Even in his old team – his sister made an effort to not baby him to ensure their survival, and he’d always treated Summer and Tai like bratty younger siblings to watch out for, especially Summer, despite her role as the team leader.

Clover chewed his bottom lip as he gazed down at Qrow, the cogs in his head clearly spinning as he tried to figure out what to say. In the few moments of quiet, Qrow couldn’t stop himself from getting lost in those soothing teal eyes, the colour of shallow ocean waves. They were cooling, healing all in their own right. Qrow could so easily get lost in them, sink deep through the seas they led to.

Qrow had to snap back to his senses when Clover smiled and tilted his head, “Well, don’t see it as a responsibility then.” He leaned over to peck Qrow on the lips. “See it as me spoiling you. Like you deserve.”

Qrow caught the smug look on Clover’s expression as he walked off, but that just meant that Clover definitely caught Qrow’s face turning totally pink. Qrow simply scoffed once more and leaned back into the sofa, resting his head back and letting out a soft sigh. This was going to be difficult. It was going to be hard with the girls... how was he going to get them up to school everyday when they couldn’t even carry their bags by themselves? And back? He couldn’t rely on Clover for that, and he _definitely_ wasn’t going to tell them to walk alone. Oz liked to pour over how quiet and peaceful Patch was, but Qrow wasn’t going to let his girls out alone, not when they were still so little.

“You look pensive.” Clover sat back by him with a glass of juice to wash the painkillers down with, and Qrow smiled softly.

“Just got a lot to think about. With this,” he gestured to his leg, “and... stuff.” He ran a hand through his hair, slicking his fringe back out of his face. He went to speak again, turning to Clover, only to be met with a dumbfounded look on his boyfriend’s face. Qrow raised an eyebrow. “What?”

“You... well, you just look pretty with your hair slicked back, is all.” Clover softened, his smile like sunshine.

And for a moment Qrow forgot the pain in his leg, forgot everything else. He was too taken aback with just how _honest_ Clover sounded, the sweetness in his smile. Qrow’s heart paused in its beats, and he stammered. “Shut it.”

“You do! I’m being serious!” Clover laughed.

“I can’t believe you.” Qrow turned away so Clover couldn’t see his flustered smile.

“Believe it or not, you look handsome as hell.” Clover put the juice down so he could pinch Qrow’s chin, pulling him back as their eyes could meet. And his gaze was so intense as he locked his eyes with Qrow that Qrow had little choice than to sit still for the time being. “And your eyes are so striking; I can’t decide if they’re more fiery or rosy.”

“Where’s all this coming from, lucky charm?” Qrow shoved Clover’s hand away.

“It’s coming from you. I’m only saying what I see,” Clover put the pills in Qrow’s hand and held out the juice to him, “I said I’d spoil you, remember?”

“Aah I get it,” Qrow smirked as he took the pills, grimacing as he downed the juice. He hated taking pills. “You’re just trying to make me feel better. That’s all you’re doing.”

“You know that’s not the case.”

“You probably think I’m ugly.” Qrow crossed his arms and pretended to pout, taking far too much joy in goading his boyfriend. However, he didn’t have a quip for when Clover leaned forward for a more passionate kiss, holding the back of his head steady and leading Qrow to him with his tongue. Even if Qrow wanted to, there was no way for him to resist giving into Clover’s taste, his warmth. Careful of his movements, he slung an arm around Clover’s broad shoulders and let himself melt into those soft lips, combing his fingers through chestnut hair.

Qrow could have happily stayed like that. One kiss led to two, and two led to several, and soon Clover had his arms around Qrow, and Qrow laughed softly as those lips trailed a map of kisses over his jawline, down his neck.

“Easy, Cloves. Before you hurt yourself.” Qrow pushed back before Clover got to the spot on his neck that made him weak. “Where’d that come from?”

“You’re not ugly, you’re beautiful.” Clover explained, still holding Qrow close to him. Those seafoam eyes were just so clear with the sunlight beaming in from the windows. “You’re the most beautiful person I know.”

“Cloves... take a joke, would ya?” Qrow bumped their noses together, and Clover responded by rubbing his own nose up against Qrow’s.

“Not at your expense.”

Qrow rolled his eyes, but the flattered warmth soothed his heart to a pacified lull. “You’re too much, lucky charm.”

“Heh, what can I say? I love you.” Clover chuckled, but Qrow looked up at that.

_I love you._

Neither of them had said it yet, not until then. The two were quiet, and Clover tilted his head in confusion before he understood. He swallowed. “I... I love you, Qrow.” He smiled.

The words were there in Qrow’s chest, scrambling to get out. But... it frightened him. He opened his mouth, trying to push the words out, guilt bubbling up in his stomach the longer Clover was left waiting, that hopeful sweetness in his green eyes became clouded with confusion, with worry.

He could hear Raven’s voice, the first night the twin children were under the bandits’ roof. How small her voice sounded now as she whispered ‘I love you’, but how big and important she’d seemed to him all those years back.

He lost her.

He could hear Summer in the ungodly hours at Beacon Academy, forcing him back to bed after finding him falling asleep in the library, panicking over some test that he’d been certain his entire world hinged upon. The sweetness in her ‘I love you’, the concern and care that made her the perfect team leader.

He lost her.

He could hear Tai outside the house on the first cloudy day in Patch that year, the day Summer found out she was pregnant, the frailty in his voice when Qrow had to calm him down and convince him his girls were going to be fine, that nobody was going to leave him again. The “I love you” wafted between deep breaths before he was able to pull himself together.

He lost him.

Each time he’d said it back, he’d lost one.

“Qrow?” Clover stroked his thumb along Qrow’s cheekbone, and Qrow sighed as he put a hand over his.

“I...” he started slowly, trying to reconcile with his own feelings, the panic, the guilt, the fear. “I’m scared.” He breathed.

“You’re...?” Clover inquired with a soft voice, treading the ground carefully for Qrow’s sake. Qrow appreciated that.

“I can’t lose you, Clover.” He admitted. The guilt of not reciprocating was now replaced with the nastier guilt that he was turning this sweet moment sour. All because he was too afraid of himself. Of his curse. But at least he had good reason to be afraid; he’d been proven right about most of his superstitions, after all.

“You won’t lose me, I’m right here.” Clover offered him a tender smile, but it didn’t seem to help.

“Cloves...” Qrow shook his head.

“You _do_ love me, right...?” His eyes were searching, brows uplifted, trying to find proof of what Qrow was trying to say, what he needed to say.

“I – of course I...! Ngh,” Qrow held a hand to his temple in frustration, in despair, before he laid himself truthfully before Clover, “every time I say it back, I lose someone. I don’t... It’s like some kind of jinx. I’m sorry, I...!”

“Hey, Qrow, easy...” Clover leaned forward and pressed a tender kiss on each of Qrow’s eyelids, hands slipping to the back of his head. “I told you, I’m not going anywhere, you’re not going to lose me.”

“How can I be certain...?” He sounded desperate, sounded tired. All he wanted was for someone to stay.

But Clover just smiled, and flicked his thumb over his pin like it meant something. “It’s going to take a lot more than a stab in the back to get rid of me. I should be dead, Qrow – ”

“No, don’t say that – ” Qrow began.

“No, let me finish. I should have died from a wound like that, or at the best, been completely paralysed. But here I am. I’m still here, and I’m gonna be here for a lot longer, whether the universe likes it or not.”

Qrow gazed back at Clover, and he glanced down at his chest. Tentatively, he reached out and spread his hand over Clover’s heart, feeling the beat echo through the metal sternum. A reminder that he _was_ here, that he _was_ alive – by one miracle or another. Slowly, bit by bit, the bubbling shame and dread began to simmer down a notch. “You’re... you’re still here.” He said softly to himself.

Clover smiled and nodded, taking Qrow’s hand’s in his and kissing each palm. “I’m not going anywhere. I’m your lucky charm, remember?”

Qrow had to smile at that. He tried to convince his eyes not to well up, but despite his internal protests, the vision of Clover blurred through a watery haze. “Thank you, Clover.”

Clover gave one soft chuckle, and moved closer to Qrow for a kiss, wiping away the tears before they could properly fall and holding Qrow’s head securely in his hands, as though Qrow were his entire world. And for a brief moment (just a brief one), Qrow managed to believe.

He leaned into the kiss, this time battling more for control, rolling his tongue over lips and teeth and releasing the softest sighs. But in the end he was tired, the painkillers mercifully kicking in, and he let Clover take hold. And he trusted Clover with this; he found that if his very life was held in Clover’s warm strong hands, he wouldn’t feel afraid.

Qrow wanted more, wanted to pull Clover close and never let go. Gods, every time he kissed the man, he felt a spark of heat, of lightning, flashing through him, a sudden warmth he’d not known for so long. He wanted to see that body bare again, flatten his palms against Clover’s chest, feel himself being pulled closer into those strong arms. How had a man so _warm_ made his home in Atlas, of all places? And it seemed like such a pity to waste these precious hours alone together resting.

But he was tired. Frustratingly so. Clover seemed to know, and pulled away just a pinch with a smile, breaking the kiss as smoothly as possible. He felt reluctant to pull away, and Qrow couldn’t blame him. That tan could do a good enough job of hiding most of his fluster, but it couldn’t hide the heat in his eyes. Qrow almost felt bad, as if he’d lured Clover in, strung him along. But he was so. _So._ Tired.

The painkillers were best described as more of a sedative than a numbing agent. It still hurt but it made Qrow drowsy enough that he stopped caring. He’d dealt with worse, anyway. With any luck, he’d sleep through most of the recovery.

They both took a breath, warm air on Qrow’s lips, Clover’s gentle taste still on his tongue that he tried to savour before it vanished. “You should get some rest, love.” Clover said softly, running his hands down Qrow’s arms to his hands, squeezing them lightly.

“The girls will need picking up soon.” Qrow stifled a yawn.

“Not for a few hours. Remember?” Clover smiled. “Don’t worry, I can go get them.”

“You really don’t mind...?” Qrow sighed miserably, slumping his shoulders. “This is a lot for you, isn’t it? You’re still healing yourself, aren’t you?”

“I’ll be fine. I think I could get used to looking after you.” Clover chuckled, standing up and putting his hands on his hips. “Now really, rest up. Captain’s orders.”

“Alright, Captain Shamrock.” Qrow smirked wearily, shifting to lay out on the sofa and putting a hand behind his head.

“You’re really sticking to that one, huh?” Clover rolled his eyes and used a cushion to prop up Qrow’s bad leg, and Qrow smiled to himself as he watched how gentle his boyfriend was with him. The man was an absolute sap, but it still made Qrow feel special. Gave him the warm fuzzies, as Summer would have said.

“Cut me some slack, I just came out of hospital.” Qrow pouted, but Clover simply laughed softly and kissed Qrow’s forehead.

“Hey, I’m not complaining. You just get some sleep, love.”

Qrow smirked softly, and watched Clover leave the room. He stared up at the ceiling, and sighed as he felt the drain of the day, the pain and the medicine. And the frustration. And the _guilt_.

He wanted to say it, he really wanted to say it. But he wanted to protect Clover.

Would it be his fault if something happened? Would it really be so bad to say it?

He was really fucking cursed, wasn’t he?

Wasn’t he...?

He’d noticed things had been... okay. For once things were going fine. Nothing had broken around the house in ages, neither of the girls were having (as many) public meltdowns – besides the ankle, he hadn’t even gotten hurt or tripped in a hell of a long time. It had to have been Clover – the man really was a good luck charm. That wasn’t all Clover was to him, of course. It never had been about that. And he really did love the man... he loved him more than he’d thought himself capable of loving anyone in such a short span of time.

He remembered what Clover had said to him the first time he’d stayed round.

_“Your misfortune can’t kill people… same way that mine can’t save anyone.”_

The thought had lingered in his head as soon as Qrow found out about his Semblance, but now it was at the forefront of his mind. Could Clover really be able to counter this? Could he come through unscathed? Could Clover survive him?

He was too tired to think about this shit. And yet, the thoughts remained.

Qrow wanted to say it back. He was fine saying it to the girls, after all. But that was a different kind of love. He hadn’t said it in so long, in... he tried to pretend he couldn’t remember, but he knew when he’d last said it.

He’d said it to Summer the same week she vanished. He’d said it to Tai the moment he took off after their leader.

And then they were both gone.

The pain wasn’t as bad anymore, but it still fucking hurt. He grimaced and shifted where he lay, allowing the lead-heavy feeling to take over his eyelids. He needed to sleep.

Qrow took a breath as he let his eyes finally close, and decided that, if he ever managed to figure out if Clover would be able to handle it... he shook his head groggily, and mouthed the words until sleep overtook him.

_I_

_Love_

_You_

_I_

_Love_

_You_

_I..._

_Love..._


	29. Chapter 29

_The day Ruby was born had brought the wildest storm in Patch that Qrow had ever seen._

_Rain didn’t come down as a shower, it crashed down more as waves of chilling water and sleet; slivers of ice carried between currents of wind splattering across the ground, unmerciful, unrelenting. The water puddled up into pools, was blown across buildings, vehicles, trees, anything in sight, by horrific winds the likes of which Patch hadn’t had in decades. The sky was blacker than the ruffled feathers on Qrow’s wings, resulting in red flashing weather alerts placed up all over the island. He was drowning mid-air._

_He’d been flying back from a mission, torn and bruised with the will to stay awake just barely intact. Although the thought of simply stilling his wings and allowing himself to fall from the black clouds and plummet downward had been awfully tempting, he knew those monsters were going to haunt his dreams. **Her** monsters. So for now, Qrow was more than happy to keep his eyes wide open._

_Nobody was home when Qrow came in. An unlocked front door and a post-it note on the table with “hospital” hastily scrawled across it had told Qrow everything. That, and the dozen or so missed calls buzzing his scroll to life once the device finally reconnected. He hoped he wasn’t too late._

_So he ran straight out again – tripping over a carved pumpkin and bloodying his nose – and made as close a beeline to the hospital as possible. Patch was small, laughably so, and thus there was only one infirmary on the entire island. He spent the next hour or however-long begging a disinterested receptionist to tell him which ward Summer had been taken to – and insisting to a concerned passing nurse that he wasn’t there for his bloody nose... or battered arm... or limp. Injuries he’d gained while out in the field could wait until he knew Summer and the baby were okay._

_Qrow could feel his heart throbbing between his ears, his ribs sewn too tight together for him to breathe properly. Were they alright? He knew the due date and today sure as hell wasn’t it – would the little one be okay? Did Tai have Yang? It was a miracle they’d gotten to the hospital at all in this weather._

_Finally, though, Qrow was allowed up to the wards and dumped in the waiting room, soaked to the bone in so much rainwater that the blood from his nose had all but dissipated into his shirt. He left a trail of rain behind his every haggard step, and he felt himself on the brink of collapse. His heart was fit to burst from the adrenaline, but his eyes and feet were like lead. He was settling on the idea of slumping into a row of chairs to sleep when he heard the familiar voice he loved so much cry out._

_“Uncle Qrow!” Yang was a little over 2 by now, her waddling steps now evolved more to a confident run (as confident as any small child, at least) and her sunshine hair was already losing its baby ringlets and bouncing around her shoulders. Gods, she was growing too fast. She galloped to her uncle as if the sorry sight of him was the best thing she’d seen all day, and Qrow’s heart soothed at her grin, one front tooth already missing and big eyes sparkling under the artificial hospital light._

_He knelt down, fighting back his fatigue to prevent Yang from hugging him (as much as he dearly wanted to). “Easy, firecracker! The rain’s soaked me through, you don’t wanna get wet!”_

_“Thank the brothers you’re back.” Tai was immediately by Yang’s side, and he scooped her up so he could help Qrow to his feet. He looked aged already, and Qrow couldn’t be quite sure if it was from experience or worry._

_“Is she alright? The baby...?” Qrow stammered, both relieved by the sight of his dearest friend and consumed with fear over his unanswered questions. He slicked back his wet fringe so he could actually see Tai, locks of black hair having been obscuring his vision for too long now._

_“The good news... is that Summer’s okay, and the little one will be just fine...” Tai began._

_Qrow swallowed. “And... and the bad news...?”_

_“The bad news...” Tai took a steadying breath, squeezing the hand on Qrow’s shoulder, cooling blue eyes meeting vermilion red, “...is that the doctors just can’t fix that ugly face of yours.”_

_“Tai are you FUCKING SERIOUS - ?!”_

_“Not in front of the baby!” Tai laughed, bringing Qrow in to let the man rest his damp forehead on his thankfully dry shoulder. Yang tugged on a dripping wet lock of inky black hair, the first hints of grey worrying its horizon. Qrow just let out a tired groan, his nerves frazzled and his bones aching. “It’s all fine, it’s... she’s beautiful, Qrow.”_

_Tai guided Qrow into the room Summer was in; she was so exhausted she may as well have been out for the count. The team leader looked frail now, sunken into both the hospital bed and a deep sleep aided by a cocktail of painkillers. All self-pity and longing for sleep was soon drained from Qrow once the thought of what Summer must have gone through those past few hours – hell, even days – dawned on him. He’d been gone for so long now... he had no idea when the labour began or when it ended. Had there been complications? Had Summer been scared? How long had Tai had to deal with this on his own, with Yang clinging to him? But all worries drained from Qrow as soon as his gaze fell upon the dozing baby. The newest member of the family._

_Ruby had come early into this world. Qrow pitied her for it a little – the world was harsh and cold, and careless. It was a shame to be thrust into it early with such little warning. But on the other hand, Ruby had Summer as a mother, Tai as a father. And as much of a burden as he was, she still had Qrow on her side. She always would._

_She lay sleeping in a crib by the hospital bed, tiny pale hands balled into loose fists. She was wrinkly and pink, as all babies are at a few hours old, her toes twitching and flexing as she dreamed, and a quiet fell over Qrow like a curtain as he saw his niece. She was... fragile. Too fragile. She was small. And he loved her so, so much. It humbled him just to look at her; to see Ruby’s round face for the first time brought to him something he hadn’t felt for a long while._

_He felt hope._

_He felt that... even though those monsters were out there... perhaps the future wasn’t as doomed as Raven had predicted. Not when the present was capable of displaying to him such a precious moment as the one he now found himself in. This little bubble of quiet, of new love warming his core against the rain water clinging to his bones. Qrow looked upon this tiny, burbling, sweet little girl the way some would look upon a flickering candlelight in a darkened room._

_“I got a little sister.” Yang whispered happily as Tai set her down on a chair._

_“Right you do, my sunny dragon.” He kissed Yang’s forehead, watching Qrow take in the sight of his new niece._

_“She’s...” Qrow spoke softly as he watched Tai move around Qrow to get to the crib. He wrapped a blanket around his daughter, sliding his hand behind her head and picking her up, all while Qrow watched. Already, Tai had developed the gentle nature in his movements needed to hold one so little. He was careful, but tender and loving with the way he picked her up. It both terrified and comforted Qrow. “She’s beautiful.”_

_“Told you.” Tai smiled, cradling her to his chest and carrying her over to her uncle. Even now, something about her just screamed ‘Summer’ to Qrow. “Want a cuddle?”_

_Qrow’s eyes shot up at Tai, fear spiking his heart so ferociously he had to take a step back. There were two storms now, one raging outside the infirmary walls and one blazing panic under Qrow’s skin. “No. No I – I mean I – ”_

_“You won’t hurt her.” Tai said._

_“My Semblance – ”_

_“I’m right here.”_

_“I’m soaked through – ”_

_“That’s what the blanket is for. I’ll give you an extra towel.”_

_“Tai – ”_

_“Look, just,” Tai gestured to a clean towel by Summer’s feet, “hold that over your arms, and I’ll show you. You held Yang just fine when she was little.”_

_“Was never that little.” Yang reminded him, her head having been bobbing back and forth to watch the men quietly argue as her little sister slept soundly._

_Tai smiled at Yang, before looking back to Qrow who, reluctantly, did as he was instructed. He forgot to breathe as Tai sat him down, lowering Ruby into her uncle’s arms. He was so nervous Tai had to keep his own hands under Qrow’s just to reassure him that he wasn’t going to drop little Ruby. Gods, anything could go wrong._

_But... nothing did. Instead, Qrow got to hold Ruby as she slept. She let out a little grumble as she shifted in his arms, one eye opening lazily, and Qrow could see silver swirling like mercury around her pupil._

_“She’s...” Qrow whispered._

_“Just like her mother.” Tai smiled._

_Ruby burbled, and nuzzled against her uncle. She was so warm for someone so tiny. And then, like magic, she looked up at Qrow. Something about the lazy curiosity in her eyes held a power; it soothed the worry and turmoil in Qrow, reassured him in a way he couldn’t understand but appreciated. Qrow loved her with every broken piece of him._

_The maddening storm outside began to fade to a drizzle. Ruby fell asleep in Qrow’s arms._

_\---_

Qrow awoke to those pools of silver staring straight at him, and he smiled; that curiosity had never once faded. He almost thought he saw Summer, but this was too real to be a dream. He knew it was little Ruby, clutching Ladybug and Mr Bumblebee under each matchstick arm.

“Hey, pipsqueak.” He greeted his niece, and she kissed him on the nose in response.

Qrow chuckled, before sitting up with a grunt, gingerly moving his leg and resting it on the coffee table. The... _cleared_ coffee table. Who’d cleared it up? There were mugs on it earlier, piles of coloured paper and broken crayons, a worn-out scroll charger, all sorts. But it was now clean enough for Qrow to be reminded of what colour it originally was. Qrow tilted his head a little, before his eyes scanned over the room in its entirety.

Toys were tidied up and put away in the toy box. Clothes folded. Books put away on the shelves. Afternoon sunlight fell through the window in long golden beams. It looked nice, how it had when Tai and Summer were still here. Qrow hadn’t exactly let the place become a pigsty, but... it had been hard keeping the place neat on his own.

He could hear Yang in the kitchen, see-sawing between chatting away and arguing. Clover’s exasperated voice in response.

Had Clover been cleaning up while he was asleep?

The thought made a pink hue rise up through Qrow. There was guilt – he hoped desperately that Clover hadn’t felt obliged – but the more overwhelming feeling was a deeper flattering warmth.

But before Qrow could linger on the feeling, he was taken off-guard by a bundle of long golden curls obscuring his view and a weight landing on his head, his shoulder. He supposed he should count himself lucky she didn’t throw herself right onto his leg.

“UNCLE QROW!” Yang catapulted herself off the sofa’s armchair and onto Qrow, and he sputtered as she hugged his head tightly. “I missed you! I was scared!”

“Hey, hey, you had nothing to be scared about, I was going to be fine.” He soothed her, stroking her back as he just about managed to grab the girl, placing Yang on his lap. His entire leg throbbed, little flashes of his Aura sparking from under the blanket placed lovingly over him as he slept. He knew it was healing, but it still stung like a bitch.

“What if you died?!” Yang clung to him as Ruby decided to clamber up onto her uncle’s lap as well, making a pocket of space by wedging herself between Qrow and Yang.

Qrow tried to stifle a groan of pain with the movement, and he offered Yang a smile. “Come on, sunny dragon, I’m not going anywhere.”

Yang sniffled, that long-forgotten pet name striking something in her, and she burrowed against Qrow. Qrow frowned to himself as he hugged them both comfortingly; he hadn’t called her that in so long... nobody had. It had always been a Tai thing to call her. He hoped dearly that he hadn’t upset her, the name simply felt right in that moment.

“I miss that name.” She said quietly, her cheeks wet against Qrow’s collarbone.

“You always liked it, huh?” He smiled a little, a different sort of pain taking hold of his chest. “Do you want me to call you that more often...?”

Yang looked up at him. “Only if you promise not to die.”

Qrow almost laughed in surprise, though nothing about it was funny. He couldn’t promise something like that, because what if – gods forbid – he actually died? He’d leave them both behind more broken than ever, and on top of it all he’d betray their trust in the most tragic way possible. He didn’t care about _himself_ when the thought of death took hold, all that mattered was his two girls. And yet, he couldn’t find it in him to just lie, to pretend it was all going to be okay and life was perfect. She looked dead serious, and with Ruby’s eyes on him too... he opened his mouth to speak, only for Clover to save the moment by running in.

He looked rushed off his feet, tanned skin glimmering with a thin layer of sweat, and Qrow grinned in relief. Sure, Clover worked in the nursery, but he’d never had to look after _his_ nieces one-on-one until now. “These two been giving you trouble, soldier boy?”

Clover gave out a breathless smile, and Qrow wiped Yang’s eyes as he addressed his niece once again. “Come on, no more tears. I’m here now, eh?”

“...What if you aren’t one day?” She rested her round cheek on Qrow’s chest, crinkling her fair brows. Ruby pouted up at her big sister, reaching out a little hand to hold Yang’s shirt sleeve.

“Ying-Yang, look at me for a sec.” Qrow tilted Yang’s head up by her chin. Her eyes were a bright watery purple, only a few shades rosier than Tai’s blue eyes, and soon Qrow found himself under scrutiny of both lavender and silver. But not teal; he felt Clover sit by him, took comfort in the muscular arm that went around his shoulders, and decided to cast out the doubt that sat in his chest. Qrow couldn’t afford to even ponder the possibility of death. Not when he had these two to look after. “I’m not going anywhere, not if I have any say in it. Understood?”

Yang went to speak, before she swallowed and rubbed her eyes. “Are you sure?”

“Positive.” Qrow smiled. “Now, why don’t you two do your uncle a big favour...” he gestured to the sterile white cast his foot and shin was now entombed in, “and get your colouring pens to jazz up this thing? It hurts just looking at it.”

Yang’s expression lightened at that, as did Ruby’s, and the girls stumbled upstairs to get their pens.

Clover smiled as he watched them. “They were worried about you.” He said softly.

Qrow’s own smile crumbled, and he laid back into the sofa miserably. Into his lucky charm. “Were they okay last night? Did they give you much trouble?”

“They were right as rain, actually. They’re good kids – energetic, but good.” He squeezed Qrow’s shoulders. “It’s nice that they have someone like you to look up to. Not everyone is so lucky.”

Qrow rolled his eyes at those words. He wasn’t lucky. With a light scoff, he rested his head on Clover’s shoulder, allowing himself the luxury of breathing in that scent. Warm and summery. “I don’t know about all that... thank you, though. For last night.”

“I wasn’t just going to say no.” Clover smiled.

“You didn’t have to feel obliged to...”

“I wasn’t obliged, I love those girls.” Clover’s mouth formed to carry on the sentence, but he stopped himself with a smile. Qrow knew what he was going to say, what he wanted to say. What Qrow wanted so badly to say back.

And still, he hesitated.

There was so much love he wanted to give Clover, so much he wanted to say. But fear is a powerful thing, as Oz would say. The words got stuck in Qrow’s head, hiding in the back of his throat and refusing to spill from his tongue.

There was so much love. But there was so much fear.

“You’re looking pensive.” Clover remarked quietly as Ruby let out a squeal from upstairs.

“Got a lot on my mind.”

“Penny for your thoughts?”

“Lien for your silence.” Qrow chuckled softly, only to be greeted with a perplexed smile. He couldn’t help but find it adorable how crooked Clover’s smile went when he was confused – even more so in the knowledge that Clover probably had no idea he even did it. “Sorry, just uh... just a thing my sister used to say.”

Clover hummed softly, shifting from bewildered to bemused.

“...Did you tidy up?” Qrow nodded to the state of the room.

“Ah, well,” Clover shrugged, “I’m a bit of a neat freak. I couldn’t help it.”

Qrow bumped his head lightly into Clover’s, “you Atlas boys and your perfectionist ways.”

Clover rolled his eyes. “You still didn’t answer my question – I actually... have many questions. About the whole bird thing.”

“No, I cannot lay eggs.”

“I have no more questions.” Clover joked, before shifting to face Qrow properly and lowering his voice. “Do the girls know...?”

“No, no. And I’d like to keep it that way if it’s alright with you.” He sighed tiredly. Gods, the girls would _adore_ having ‘Birdie from the nursery’ as a regular family member... though he couldn’t help but picture himself getting thrust into Yang’s dollhouse if she ever got her little hands on his avian form.

Clover nodded, before giving out a more bashful smile. The light caught the faintest flickers of gold in his hair, made his unusual green eyes look ever brighter. “When you’re better, could you... transform for me?”

Qrow raised an eyebrow. “You’d want that?”

“Of course. You make a beautiful bird. I’ll even let you preen me again.” Clover smirked.

Qrow scoffed, glanced away. The memory of those short chestnut brown locks on his beak still sent shivers up his back. That had been a treat that day – not necessarily for Clover, but for Qrow. It had been so long since he’d had attention like that when he was a bird. Even when Team STRQ was together, he didn’t often transform for the sake of indulgence, the need to preserve Aura that much stronger than Summer’s pleas. Having said that, there had been wonderful times when he’d transform just to sit at the bottom of Yang’s crib when she was tiny. Flying about the nursery to retrieve her dummy in the early morning light whenever she’d toss it out of her cot will always be a fond memory, even if he knew Yang herself likely didn’t remember it at all.

It had been frightening to transform the first time, to feel himself fold inward, shrink down, down, down. Hair became feathers, mouth became beak, arms became wings. Everything became so ginormous and he, well, he became so terrifyingly small. He simply refused to transform for some time shortly after Ozpin’s ‘gift’, for fear that he would forget how to turn back. _That_ had been the main theme in many a nightmare back in those days.

And yet, Clover watched him with a hint of excitement, with enthused curiosity. Wonder. Love.

It all went back to love.

And as Qrow’s skin took on a peachy shade under Clover’s gaze, he found himself realizing that he began associating the warmth in himself with Clover. The sun on his back was like Clover’s arm slinging around him. Dappled light from under trees were like kisses from those surprisingly soft lips.

Qrow rolled his eyes and smirked at Clover. “I’ll do a lot more than preen you, soldier boy.”

Clover cocked an eyebrow, tilted his head up at the remark. “Is that a promise?”

A rumbling chuckle rose from Qrow. “Take a lucky guess.”

Clover darted close and nipped at Qrow’s neck and the Huntsman flinched – but not from fright, instead from the giddy shiver that wracked his nerves. His neck was always a weak spot for him, but he’d be damned if he ever admitted to being ticklish (no matter how blatantly obvious it was).

“Quit it! I’m injured!” Qrow batted at Clover’s shoulders as he tried to twist away from the incessant nibble, his grin seemingly affixed to his features. The peachy hue across his cheeks threatened to spill into deeper shades.

“I said I’d spoil you, didn’t I?” Clover did finally pull away, a cocky smirk punctuating his words.

“If this is what you call spoiling, you can just give up now.”

But Clover didn’t listen. Instead, he cupped Qrow’s cheeks and squished. “Gods, you look so pretty when I fluster you. I need to do it more often, hm?”

Qrow smacked away Clover’s hands. “You’re an insufferable brat.”

“Hey, you picked me. Maybe you have a thing for brats.”

“Fuck off.”

“Little ears...!” Clover pointed to the stairs with a berating look, but Qrow only responded with a roll of his eyes.

“You’ve been spending too much time at nursery.”

“Nursery... shit!” Clover was on his feet in moments, fishing his scroll out of his pocket and snapping it open, the pale blue light of the holo-screen reflecting as panicked blue squares in his eyes.

Qrow frowned at the sudden shift. “Wait, what’s wrong?”

“I have to talk to the General. _Now_.”

Clover had that look in his eyes. The flashes in seafoam that Qrow glimpsed at when he awoke from a nightmare in Atlas, the haze he went into at the festival. Fear. Qrow swallowed.

“What is it? Did something happen at the nursery?”

“I _need_ to – !”

“Clover.” Qrow reached out and managed to reach Clover’s hand. Clammy. “What you need to do is tell me what’s wrong. What’s going on, shamrock?”

Clover hesitated, Qrow could see it in the way his lips parted, sealed shut, parted once more. “Ruby... said something yesterday. Before you...”

“What was it?” He guided Clover back down to sit with him, their hands never once coming undone. Never once wanting to.

Clover grimaced. “The man who... who did this to me...” His eyes stayed firmly down, staring into the fibres of the carpet. Qrow sat with him, not wanting to push but needing the answers to what was causing his love so much fright. But before long, Clover raised his eyes to Qrow, and a rare stroke of vulnerability ran through that soft seafoam gaze. “Callows is in Atlas. Was. I...” Clover ran a hand through his hair, scuffling the longer locks at the front. “Ruby said she saw someone there that... when she described it... it fit the bill and I...” He shook his head in shame. “I – I’m sorry.”

“For what?” Qrow squeezed Clover’s hand. “Of course you’re gonna feel afraid.”

“I’m _not_ afraid.” He replied instinctively, before sighing. “Sorry, it’s just...”

“You can stop apologizing,” Qrow smiled softly, “I’m not gonna think any less of you for being scared of the fucker that skewered you.”

Clover pulled a face. “Did you really have to word it like that?”

“Would you seriously rather I sugar-coat it?”

“...Fair point.”

“...So.” Qrow stroked his thumb over Clover’s knuckles. “You said Roo mentioned him. How would she know anything about him?”

“That’s what... _upsets_ me the most,” Clover swallowed as he struggled with his words, “she said she saw a strange man when she was buying candy with Yang. To think they were so close to... him.”

“They were right by him?” Qrow sat up then, a sick feeling gathering deep in the pit of his being.

Clover grunted. “And I was none the wiser. I was too busy completely losing my composure just because Marrow _touched_ my back to be useful.” He reviled himself. “I was a coward – ”

“Hey. Don’t.” Qrow frowned, putting a hand on Clover’s shoulder. This wasn’t like him at all, and Qrow didn’t know how to fix it. “I thought I was the angst-ridden one in this relationship, eh?”

Clover didn’t laugh. He didn’t look like he was ever going to laugh again.

“Look... Cloves, this is... delicate for you.”

“ _I’m_ not supposed to be delicate, Qrow. I’m the Captain of – ”

“Yeah, yeah. Ace Ops Captain. Jimmy’s personal attack dog. Star-spangled man with a plan, I get it.” Qrow leaned forward best he could. “You’re also a human, for better or worse. You’re not made of stone... and neither am I.”

Clover looked back at Qrow like he didn’t know what to do. Like a boat without an anchor. Qrow sighed and yanked Clover forward by his shirt collar for a kiss. He could feel the Captain let out a soft fluttering gasp before he let himself sink into his boyfriend’s lips, cleanshaven chin and check flush against stubble. Qrow took a little satisfaction in how quickly Clover relented into his arms, so he trailed his fingers up over a tanned neck, a strong jaw, chestnut brown sideburns. And like that, Qrow threaded his fingers through Clover’s soft short hair. Despite all the turmoil clearly going on underneath, Qrow had to appreciate those gentle lips, that warm tongue. With Clover there was always warmth. Always love.

Clover didn’t open his eyes when Qrow pulled away, so he took the opportunity to kiss over eyelids and brown lashes, over those sweet triangular eyebrows. Over cheekbones and finally back at lips that were now curled up into a faint smile. Kissing him the way he’d kissed Qrow after their disaster of a first date, giving back some comfort.

“You’re too hard on yourself, Cloves.” He whispered.

“I have to be.”

“No, not with me.”

Clover opened his eyes then, before breathing out a gentle laugh. Yang and Ruby came stomping down the stairs with a cracked pink box holding all their pencils and half-used markers. The box was covered in old peeling stickers, and many pens were missing their lids. But they carried them like they held the most valuable tools in their possessions. That didn't stop them from hopping down each step, however.

“Hey! No running down the stairs!” Qrow called, but neither girl took any notice. Qrow grumbled and looked back at Clover. “Go make that call. Tell Jimmy I said hi.”

Clover could only laugh again as he stood up. “Duly noted, birdie. Can I call you birdie?”

“ _You_ can call me whatever you like, lucky charm.” Qrow was the one to wink this time, and Clover chuckled as he left, leaving Qrow at the mercy of the girls and their markers.


	30. Chapter 30

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter features a song! The song is "Solar Waltz" by Cosmo Sheldrake! 
> 
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MkQW5xr9iGc&ab_channel=CosmoSheldrake

It would have been easier for Clover to contact Ironwood if he’d had his earpiece. Truthfully, he couldn’t remember when he’d stopped keeping it in. He’d had it on when he first moved to Patch, he remembered keeping the little device on the train. But the exact date of when he’d stopped doing that was lost in the grey matter of his memory.

It must have been around the same time he’d seen Qrow smile for the first time.

He wasn’t sure how to feel about that.

Nonetheless, Clover was left with only his scroll, but it wasn’t particularly troubling. What was troubling, to him at least, was how his pulse still raced, so intense he could see the purplish line in his wrist throbbing under his skin. He ran his tongue over his teeth to try and fix the dryness in his mouth, to remind himself not to keep his jaw clenched so tight.

He was a fool. How had he forgotten to call the General after so long? It had been 2 days – 2 days too long for any excuses. Perhaps Qrow _was_ injured, perhaps Clover _had_ been busy with the girls, but he was an Ace Op. More importantly, he was the Leader for gods’ sake, the Captain. He shouldn’t be so flippant about something as important as this.

He scowled. Perhaps civilian life was dulling his senses.

But even as Clover thought of that, he felt pain. Guilt. He winced as though the very idea was a burning hot prod caressing his skin. That guilt brought with it a fine dose of confliction – he felt like he was betraying his life in this lovely quaint place by thinking so poorly of it. He loved this little island, he loved the girls, he loved the sweet little house they lived in, the mess of toys and the drawings covering the fridge he currently stood in front of, and he loved Qrow.

And Qrow loved him.

...He did, didn’t he?

“Clover, it’s been quite some time now.” The General’s voice held a warmer tone than usual – he must have been having a good day.

Clover cleared his throat before the fear could rattle his voice, before the palpitations in his chest could give away how frightened and frustrated and disappointed in himself he truly was. “General Ironwood, sir.”

“Marrow’s worried about you, you know.”

“I – sir?” He knitted his eyebrows together in confusion.

“He said something happened at the festival and quite frankly he won’t shut up about it. Did he upset you?”

Clover frowned, before sighing. He hadn’t even thought about how his outburst would have affected Marrow or even Elm. He really was a fool. “Just a hiccup with my back, sir. I’ll talk to him.”

“Good.” He could hear Ironwood’s slight smile in his tone. “I take it that’s not why you called me, however.”

“Sir, there may have been a sighting of Callows in Atlas earlier this week.” Gods, just saying it made a shiver run through his vertebrae. A spine that was meant to be made of steel alloy had never felt so fragile.

The General had once said in a lecture, back when Clover was but a student, that sometimes saying a thought out loud gave it more meaning; it brought the thing into being, in its own way. What Clover just said was already true, and he knew it to be so, and yet hearing his own voice bringing it into the room – knowing his voice was but a thread away from falling apart – made Clover feel small.

A small fool in a world full of things he didn’t understand.

Ironwood was silent for a few moments. Then he uttered, “repeat yourself.”

That was the one thing Clover really didn’t want to hear in that moment. He did as he was told, he _always_ did as he was told, but this time he desperately didn’t want to. Didn’t want to bring more power to the truth that frightened him so.

“I have reason to believe that Tyrian Callows may be in Atlas.”

Clover could hear James breathing. Steady, subdued. A few long breaths, and a sigh. “What can you tell me?”

“I might have a witness, two in fact. It’s only a possibility, but...”

“I’d have to meet them. Are they Huntsmen? Agents?”

“...They’re children.” Clover admitted.

“They – ? You’re going to need to give me more details, soldier. This line is secure.”

Clover nodded to himself. “Yang Xiao Long and Ruby Rose – Qrow Branwen’s nieces. I believe you already know him?” Clover remembered the call he’d heard barely a week ago, James’ comments about the girls. It left a sour note at the back of his mouth, the tone James had used. The implications it had. He said nothing on the matter, nothing about what he already knew; it was what Qrow had asked of him.

He didn’t like how easy it had been to pick Qrow over Ironwood. And yet there he was, feeling little to no guilt. Oh, the dangers of love.

The General was silent for a time, before he grumbled. “I know Qrow. I’ll get in contact with him as soon as possible. Thank you for telling me, Clover. I’ll update you as soon as I can.”

Clover went to speak, but James simply hung up. And Clover was left with his thoughts.

What would he have said, anyway?

He lowered his scroll and stared at the artificial glow, powered by the tiniest smidge of hard light Dust. An Atlesian breakthrough that had reshaped all of Remnant in more ways than one. It was one of the things that made him proud to be Atlesian.

He lugged himself back into the living room, to see both girls sat around Qrow’s cast. The material was rough, porous almost, as a result of the hardened gauze. But nonetheless, the girls happily pressed on with their blobby drawings. Splotches of brown and red and yellow and green slowly but surely consumed the expanse of white, and both Ruby and Yang seemed very pleased with themselves. Ladybug and Mr Bee were propped up on the cushion Qrow’s cast was resting on at the coffee table, both the toys almost acting as guards to protect the injured foot.

“For the last time,” Qrow crossed his arms as he clocked Ruby reaching into the little pink box for a stray tub of yellow finger paint, “no, you’re not painting on it.”

“But...” Ruby pouted.

“You can paint in the kitchen, with newspaper on the table and an apron. _On paper_. Not on the cast.”

Ruby frowned, the temptation to throw a tantrum clear in her eyes.

Clover had to smile a little as he joined Qrow’s side, sitting by him and trying to pretend he didn’t feel like a bottle held upside down, all the energy quickly draining in bubbles and splashes from the lidless opening. He stifled a yawn when he opened his mouth to speak. “I’d gladly do some painting with you after dinner, sweetie. Just not on your uncle. Deal?”

Ruby tilted her head, thinking about the offer. Yang took a green marker and dotted a little section where Qrow’s toes were kept. “Can I do painting too?”

“I thought you wanted to learn to be a Huntress, firecracker.” Qrow gave a wry smile as he naturally reached for Clover’s hand, taking it in his like it was already second nature to him. The realisation seemed to wash away so much of the dread in Clover, like every flutter of his heart was an ocean wave pulling the fear into the sea with the tide. He smiled and kissed Qrow’s cheek, the prickly stubble on his lips the most reassuring thing he could imagine.

Yang grumbled. “Can’t I do both?”

“What’s this all about, hm?” Clover tucked his scroll back into his pocket. He had to admit, the joggers had much bigger pockets, what with them being nowhere near as tight as his usual pants, but he felt better in the pants (plus, after Qrow’s comments he only felt it fair he wear them more often, so his boyfriend had a treat if nothing else).

“Did you know Uncle Qrow was in a Vytal Festival tournament?!” Yang hopped up and smacked her hands down on Clover’s knees, her eyes big with pride and wonder at her uncle.

“Really? That’s incredible, sunflower!” Clover lifted the giggling girl off the ground and plopped her onto his lap. He automatically held back a wince, but there was no pain in the movement. He expected some ache or spike up his back, but there was none. He should have been relieved. He wasn’t.

Qrow laughed softly, squeezing Clover’s hand once more. Clover couldn’t help but weave his own fingers through Qrow’s, those long pale digits generating a wave of giddy reassurance up his arm. He nestled his knuckles up against the rings, ran his finger pads across the back of his boyfriend’s hand. Judging by his warm absentminded smile as he registered the tender touch, Qrow didn’t seem to mind at all.

“I didn’t win, but... hey. Still made the team proud.” He leaned back into the seat. Ruby’s fingers still twitched in the direction of the paint, but she seemed more interested in what Qrow had to say. “I think I still have it on my scroll – I was gonna show our mini Huntresses how a real fight goes.”

“I’d love to see more of you in action.” Clover winked at Qrow. His little returning smirk was the sweetest thing. “Even if you didn’t win the whole thing, that’s still impressive.”

“Heh, well, it wasn’t me that was impressive...”

“I highly doubt that. I’ve seen what you can do, birdie.” Clover smirked, but Qrow just shook his head at him.

“I bet you were awesome.” Ruby said softly, beaming at her uncle.

Qrow, still unused to being the centre of such positive attention, leaned on Clover’s shoulder and huffed. “Come on, it wasn’t me that turned heads. It was your parents who really got STRQ through it all.”

“Daddy was the coolest person there, I bet.” Yang climbed over Clover to point at a picture of Tai on the wall. The man was young, grinning as he was in all the framed photos, showing off a new tattoo.

“Yang – easy! What have I told you about doing that?!” Qrow frowned at the girl, but Clover only laughed and put Yang back down onto his lap.

“It’s fine, it’s fine.” Clover assured Qrow, who only crossed his arms in response.

Yang once again took no mind to the adults, and continued. “He had the coolest tattoos. Do you have any tattoos, Clover?”

Clover shook his head.

“Did your daddy have tattoos?”

Clover shrugged. “I have no idea.”

Yang tilted her head at that, the one stubborn lock of hair that shot up atop her head swished as she moved. “Why don’t you know?”

Qrow interjected, not wanting Clover to get uncomfortable. “Some people just don’t know both their parents.”

“Huh.” Yang clearly still found the concept to be confusing, and she frowned at her feet as she pondered.

Clover smiled a little as he watched the child. “I still knew my mother, like I told you before – and no, she didn’t have tattoos either.”

Yang looked up at Clover as she remembered. “Was she nice?”

Clover smiled down at the girl, stroking her blonde curls like she was his own. “Oh, she was lovely. She would have liked you two.”

“Would she really?” Ruby sat down so she was peeking up from the space under Qrow’s leg.

“Of course! She’d have liked your lovely uncle too.” Clover wrapped an arm around Qrow, who scoffed. But of course, there was no hiding the smile on Qrow’s face.

“Good. Because everyone should like my uncle!” Yang nodded fiercely with a smile. “Even if he is a really bad cook.”

“Hey! You can make your own lunches if you’re going to be like that!” Qrow narrowed his eyes at Yang.

“Good! When I grow up I’ll be a better Huntress than you _and_ a better cook!”

“Over my dead body!” The words escaped Qrow’s mouth before he could stop them, and it was only after Yang stilled and muted that he realized what he said. Clover could have heard a pin drop in the other room with the quiet that fell over them.

Yang looked between Clover and Qrow, her eyes going big like saucers. “You’re not dead! You’re not going to die, are you?!”

“Whoa – no no, hey, it’s okay – l!” Qrow tried to soothe her, but the tears had already started to form in her eyes.

“I don’t want you to die! I don’t want anyone else to die!” She clambered off Clover and rushed to Qrow, throwing herself at her uncle. Clover winced in sympathy as Qrow’s leg was jolted, making him let out a sharp yelp. Ruby scrambled out of the space and ran to the end of the sofa with a squeak. But Qrow still caught Yang in his arms, holding his niece on his lap as she just started to cry onto his broad shoulder.

“Ying-Yang... sweetie, it’s okay. I told you I’m not going anywhere.” Qrow stroked her hair and did his best to soothe her as Clover got up and delicately repositioned his boyfriend’s leg, not knowing what else to do with himself. He hadn’t expected such a sharp whiplash in tone; hearing the poor girl cry like that broke his heart. “I’m sorry, Ying-Yang. I didn’t mean to say that. I won’t say that again. I’m sorry...”

Clover watched the pair sullenly, sitting back down and sliding his hand back around Qrow’s shoulders, patting the top of Yang’s head. To his surprise, Qrow leaned on him once again, let him take part in the comfort. Despite the gravity of the sadness before him, he couldn’t help but feel a sliver of joy at being trusted so much by Qrow, to be let in like this. He rested his hand on Yang’s head while Qrow smoothed out her long unruly hair.

“Please don’t cry,” Qrow kept saying, guilt smeared across his features as he cuddled Yang, most of her sobs at least softened by how she kept her face smushed against the crook of her uncle’s neck, “come on, you know I was only messing around. I won’t joke like that anymore. Just please don’t cry.”

Clover looked over when he felt a small hand on his knee. Ruby had grabbed Ladybug without anyone even seeing, and had pulled her hood up over her little head. Now, she looked up at Clover with scared big eyes, trying to not let her bottom lip wobble. He simply sighed in understanding, and patted his lap at the girl. Ruby clambered up quietly, and sat on Clover so she could reach for her sister.

“I miss them.” Yang’s voice crept out, and she finally shifted to look up at her uncle. Her eyes were still flowing with tears and her face was red and puffy, snot framing her button nose and her grimace. Clover passed Qrow a tissue without a word, and Qrow took his time mopping up Yang’s face with utmost care.

“I do too, sweetheart. We all do. I’m sorry – ”

“Why did they have to go? They said they’d come back and they didn’t.” Yang sniffled, blowing her nose into the tissue Qrow held out for her. He pinched her nose to wipe away the slime.

“I.. I don’t know. I...” Qrow shook his head as both the girls looked up at him, searching for an answer. They looked so lost.

Clover bit his bottom lip, before he cleared his throat. “When my mother passed away,” he said softly, attracting to him an audience of three, “I had no idea what to do with myself.”

Yang blinked through more tears. Qrow looked gently at Clover.

“It felt unfair. It felt... incredibly unfair.” Clover frowned, before sighing and looking over at the girls. At Qrow. “It hurt worse than anything else.”

“What happened?” Ruby whispered.

“She got very sick while I was away. There wasn’t anything I could do.” He explained simply, almost numb. He still remembered the day all those years back, being called into Ironwood’s office in the middle of class. Realizing he never got to say goodbye. He’d been so immersed in his studies he hadn’t even come home that last break, preferring to stay at the Academy. He hadn’t even known she was sick.

“Sometimes bad things happen, and sometimes we don’t understand.” He turned to face them all properly, and he smiled a little. “But it doesn’t always happen. And it doesn’t happen often. I’m lucky, because I’ve not lost anyone else. And I don’t think you’ll be losing anyone else any time soon.”

Yang sniffled. “What was... what was your mommy like?”

“She was... stubborn,” Clover let out a soft laugh, “she was caring. And funny. She liked to make up little songs about everything to make me smile.”

Yang and Ruby smiled delicately. “Mommy and Daddy made up funny songs, too.” Ruby rubbed her eyes. “Daddy told me a song about how broccoli was just tiny trees.”

“I got that one stuck in my head for weeks.” Qrow smirked at Ruby. “I would hum it when I was out on missions.”

Clover chuckled at that.

“Do you remember any?” Yang asked then, looking over at Clover hopefully. “Any of your mommy’s songs?”

Clover opened his mouth to speak, before he came upon the discovery that her voice was becoming a distant memory to him now. He tried to chase any melody from his childhood, through his memories. And yet... the voice started to escape him. A spike of fear ran up his chest; would there come a day when her voice was totally lost to him?

The feeling of Qrow bumping shoulders with him was what brought Clover back to reality. And as their eyes met, an old rhythm rang through Clover’s head, one he hadn’t heard since he was a boy. It brought with it the memory of their old house in the middle of Patch, the fading smell of perfume and houseplants. His mother’s eyes, that mirrored the colour of his own.

And he smiled.

“I only remember a few, none of the ones she made up herself, I’m afraid.”

“Can you tell us any?” Yang tilted her head, nuzzling absentmindedly into Qrow’s hand which was still resting amid a forest of golden yellow curls.

Clover wasn’t a good singer, he knew that to be true. But the girls – and Qrow – watched him with such curiosity that he couldn’t help but laugh as he tried to remember the song, the first notes from his voice coming out wobbly, unsure. “ _Well Time, she did as Time she does..._ ” he began quietly, “ _she passed along her way. And Dawn, she crept like a frightened girl, out from the night time’s sway..._ ”

He scooped up Ruby and stood up, one strong arm secure around the tiny child and his other arm holding her hand as he started to waltz. He moved in time with the melody that flowed its way back into the forefront of his mind, a relic of forgotten dreams tied in the mystic band of memory. Ruby giggled as he held her so, and she squeezed his hand and rested her other arm on Clover’s shoulder.

“ _But in the merry month of May,_ ” Clover continued, more confident as he remembered, “ _a solemn fact does lurk... For Spring, she sprang as Spring she does... and puts the bees to work..._ ”

“I know that one.” Qrow said suddenly, lighting up.

“Well, join in, then.” Clover smiled. When Qrow stammered for an excuse not to, when that sweet shade of pink bloomed in his cheeks, Clover laughed. “Don’t worry, I’ll sing it with you.”

Qrow huffed softly, before sighing in defeat, and he let his voice join Clover’s. “ _And work, they must, so work they shall, for all the things to grow. For if they don’t, as Time, she knows, they’d wither on the bough._ ”

Qrow stroked Yang’s hair soothingly, although she’d altogether stopped crying by this point, comforted by the sound of their song, of the feeling of Qrow’s voice rumbling in his chest, against her round cheek. And Ruby herself had taken to letting her head lull trustingly into the crook of Clover’s neck, happy to let him waltz her around the living room.

“ _Oh, what a dusty burden, that nectar and that pollen..._ ” Clover found he liked the sound of Qrow’s voice with his own, and he shut his eyes briefly as he took comfort in the weight in his arms, in Ruby’s little heart beating against his shirt, “ _like Atlas, with the heavens on the back of his head. And what if they should falter, and shrug their little shoulders? Well Time, she’d pass all the same..._ ”

Clover had always assumed that was the end of the song; that was when his mother would stop singing, at least. And yet, as he sat down, he heard Qrow’s voice carrying on. “ _So rot, ferment, and decompose... So all the things can grow..._ ” Qrow had shut his eyes, cradling Yang to him, who looked like she was on the edge of falling asleep, “ _or wallow in a lifeless world, and wither on... the... bough_.”

When Qrow opened his eyes, he looked over at Clover, and smiled softly. “I remember it from when I was a kid. It was one of my favourites.” He spoke quietly.

“Mine too.” Clover agreed with a smile to match Qrow’s.

Yang sniffled, rubbing her eyes.

“You look tuckered out, firecracker.” Qrow smiled down at Yang, her face still puffy but thankfully there were no new tears to cry. “Go have a nap, I’ll call you when dinner’s ready. Okay?”

“But...” Yang grumbled in a tone that gave away exactly how tired she was.

Clover chuckled, looking down at Ruby... to find her eyes closed and her breaths deep and even as she rested on him. She must have dozed off as they were still singing. Clover sighed and stood back up, gently manoeuvring the youngest so he could have space for Yang in his arms. “C’mon, I’ll help cook so you don’t have to worry about it being bad.”

“How dare you.” Qrow narrowed his eyes at Clover, trying not to grin.

Yang giggled tiredly, before looking back at her uncle. “I wanna stay with you, though.”

“I’m right here, sunshine.” Qrow pressed the tip of his nose to Yang’s, and eventually she let out a little smile. “You go with your sister. Okay?”

“’Kay.” She nodded, and let herself get picked up by Clover and carried upstairs. Clover tried to keep his movements gentle, considerate of the two girls nestled into each muscular arm. When Clover looked around Yang’s room, he noticed the sunflower prints on the wallpaper, the plastic bumblebees hanging from her light. All things her parents must have shopped for, picked out especially for her. Her and Ruby. Every detail was just a plain indication of how much love they’d had for the two children he carried to bed.

It made him smile; he didn’t know either of them, yet he hoped they knew their girls were in safe hands. He knelt on the bed to lower them both down, trying not to think about how eerie the absence of pain felt in his back. Ruby naturally curled into Yang, cuddling her Ladybug between them.

“You’re nice.” Yang slurred softly, rubbing her eyes as she sat up in her bed.

“Thank you, Yang.” Clover chuckled, moving to get up. “You get some rest now. It’s been a long day for you.”

“...Clover?”

“Yeah?”

Yang looked up at him apprehensively. “Are you sure my uncle is going to be okay?”

“I’m positive – he has me, after all.” He pointed to himself confidently. “I promise I won’t let anything happen to him.”

Yang nodded half-heartedly, glancing down for just a moment before looking up once again to meet his gaze. “And... Clover?”

“Mm-hm?” He waited patiently.

Tears threatened to well up in Yang’s eyes once more, but she lifted her head and tried to be brave. “Can you call me ‘sunny dragon’? Please?”

Clover wasn’t sure what was important about that, but her voice sounded close to crumbling, and so he sat on the edge of the bed and hugged her. “Sweet dreams, my sunny dragon.”


	31. Chapter 31

Over the course of the next week, Qrow’s cast became more and more filled up with colour. Yang covered the sole of the cast with brown and yellow splodges that resembled sunflowers, as Ruby drew red blobs and swirls that vaguely gave the impression of ladybirds (Clover reassured her that they weren’t _bad_ , just... abstract). Yang tried to draw Clover himself on Qrow’s ankle, but covered his face with a giant bumblebee when she decided she’d gotten his eyes wrong. Both the girls collaborated on drawing their father as a dragon on Qrow’s shin.

One day, while Qrow was in a painkiller-induced sleep, Ruby laid on the floor so she could draw big black birds on his calf – only she ran out of black after the first two, and had to resort to a purple felt tip pen. When he awoke, he was greeted with a cast absolutely brimming with happy little doodles. Scrawling lines of crayon and scribbles of felt tips adorned the gauze, painted the prettiest pictures that made him almost dread the day it’d have to be removed. He wondered if he could ask to keep it.

He’d asked the girls about Callows that same week, sat them down with Clover one morning and eventually got a description. Qrow could tell by the sheen of sweat on Clover’s brow that the details of the strange man in Atlas added up more and more in favour that this was, indeed, the mad bastard.

“He had a long face,” Yang said, more aware and cautious of the serious expressions on the adults than oblivious little Ruby, who simply sat there gnawing on Mr Bee’s fabric wing, “and a really weird smile. He was kinda ugly.”

Qrow grimaced to himself once he’d sent the girls back upstairs to wash up for breakfast, and before Clover could leave for the kitchen, he tugged on his boyfriend’s hand. Those calloused fingers and warm tan that offered Qrow so much comfort felt clammy in his grip. “It’s gonna be alright, lucky charm. You’re alright.”

Clover offered him a smile, but it couldn’t blanket the weariness now present in those seafoam eyes. Qrow sighed once he left, an anger bubbling away in the centre of his being.

He remembered the feeling of running his fingers down the metal of Clover’s spine. Kneading into the cement muscles around each steel vertebrae. That lovely, lovely skin that was warm like the sun... it was riddled with scars. Any scar from battle seemed pale against the surgery marks that mottled the expanse of Clover. To think of what he must have gone through, to be _impaled_ like that by some psycho killer... Qrow balled his hands into fists as he searched the name on his scroll, began to read about what else that creep had done.

Yang was right. Callows _was_ ugly.

His kill count was uglier. So many lives... unfortunate souls who, for the most part it seemed, had simply crossed paths with him and ended up sliced and diced. But then... then there were poisons. So many more victims met their end on the sharp tip of a segmented, off-black tail. The drip-drip-drip of sickly purple venom.

There weren’t many Faunas known to have such a lethal trait, and it was rare enough as it was for anyone to have a Semblance that could so harshly disrupt someone else’s Aura the way Callows could... it was almost like this guy was destined to be a killer.

Qrow shook his head, before checking the time at the top of the holo-screen. He scowled as he shifted to sit up, a clenching, searing pain running up his leg from his ankle. “Girls! How long does it take to wash your hands?! Hurry up!”

“There’s a spider in the bathtub!” Yang cried out.

Qrow scoffed, reaching for his crutches before Clover came back in, the scent of bacon and cereal following him like a very weird but quite pleasant cologne. Everything about him was pleasant, in Qrow’s eyes at least. “Everything okay?”

“The girls are scared of big bugs. I need to go get it.”

Clover waved him off before going to the stairs. “You stay there, I’ll sort it out.”

He smiled in thanks and watched Clover ascend up the wooden steps. How a man could suffer such a surely fatal blow and was still able to not only survive, but to thrive, was beyond Qrow. Clover was inspiring, in his own wonderful way.

He looked back at the mugshot of a gaunt, grinning man staring straight back at him. A man who had no guilt in his toxic yellow eyes, not even a flicker of hesitation. Qrow was going to get better, and when he did, he was going to find this guy and beat the living shit out of him.

He jumped out his skin when he heard a yowl from upstairs. But it wasn’t from either of the girls.

“WHAT THE HELL IS THAT THING?!”

Qrow’s heart was in his throat, before he realized the problem. Then, he had to stop himself from bursting out laughing as it hit him – Clover had probably never seen the sort of spiders they got in Patch.

He couldn’t imagine any bugs surviving the harsh Solitas weather, not even including the fact that Atlas wasn’t even low enough on the ground for most insects to reach, so his poor boyfriend’s experience with creepy-crawlies was probably... lacking, to say the least. Vale, on the other hand, was swarming with itty-bitty creatures. Spiders, centipedes, hornets, beetles... it didn’t help that their little house was closer to the surrounding forestry than most other parts of Patch. The closer one got to the woods, the bigger and freakier the bugs got, but Qrow had spent so long growing up just a few cloth barriers away from the great outdoors that they simply didn’t bother him until they decided to bite. He’d woken up quite a few times as a kid to be greeted with an 8-legged friend hiding under his shirt or in his hair – though it was hard to tell how many times had been a simple accident or how many of those times was the result of Raven or some other kid in the tribe trying to prank him.

“WHY IS IT HAIRY?!” Clover’s voice came again, yanking Qrow out of his daydream.

He grinned and grabbed his crutches, grunting as he lifted himself to his feet gingerly. “Don’t worry! I’ll be up in a sec!”

But soon, before he could even get to the end of the sofa, Clover’s footsteps came tumbling down the stairs. Held as far out in front of him as he could manage was Yang’s school folder with the toothbrush glass atop it. Trapped in the glass was a spider that even Qrow had to admit was pretty big. It only had 6 legs, little wriggling stubs the only clue of its missing 2 limbs. It was thick, furry, and coloured in strips of gold and brown and black. Its little legs were tapping against the glass container as if pleading for freedom. Clover was clearly trying not to look at it too hard, his face a shade paler than it had been before and his features twisted into a grimace.

Qrow laughed and leaned against the armrest. “Careful, boy scout. They spit venom that can melt glass.”

“Oh, buzz off.” Clover scowled as he marched out the front door. Qrow snickered, leaning to get an eyeful as Clover squatted to release the spider into the wild. Qrow was really liking the tighter pants nowadays.

Qrow was getting a bit too invested in Clover’s ass, he decided. If he could walk, he had no doubts he would have followed Clover right out the door to grab a cakey handful. And it wasn’t just the man’s ass that had him spellbound – Clover was muscular in all the ways Qrow liked. He had a neck that was thick but not _too_ thick, he was broad-shouldered, his waist tapered in just nicely, and thighs thick enough to smother Qrow if he dared to get between them (and he was just waiting for the right time to dare).

Forget about liking. He was _loving_ the tight pants.

“Is the spider gone?” Ruby tugged on her uncle’s cape, snapping him back to reality before he started drooling on the spot.

“Yeah, yeah, Clover let it out.” He reassured her.

“Did he kill it?” Yang stomped down the steps, wiping her freshly-washed hands on her pyjama top.

“Did he?!” Ruby looked up at Qrow heartbroken, before rushing after Clover. “Spider, no!”

“Never mind the spider,” Qrow called out, shooing Yang in the direction of the kitchen before she could run after her little sister, “go have your breakfast before you’re both late!”

Qrow watched them all disappear into the kitchen, and eased back onto the sofa. It was morning and he was already tired. He tried to blame it on the painkillers and not the general fatigue that had settled in his bones once the first streaks of grey had become asserting their presence through his hair. It wasn’t as if he were lacking in sleep – he’d slept soundly last night, better than he usually slept. In fact, whenever the warmth of Clover was by him, he slept peacefully. That grounding weight, that summery smell, the sound of another heartbeat by him... it made a world of difference. Honestly, Qrow wasn’t so upset with having his leg in a cast now that it meant Clover stayed with him through the nights. He would have to break his bones more often.

It was nice having Clover with him in the house. It was nicer than nice, it was lovely. Having an actual grown ass adult to chat to instead of the girls – he adored them, but everyone knew there was a line that had to be drawn when it came to chatting with children. When Summer and Tai were still here, Qrow had the luxury of being nothing more than the cool uncle that could spoil them and play with them and tease them. But he had to be a parent for them too now. They weren’t just his little partners in crime anymore, they were his responsibility. It made it easier having Clover round now, so easy in fact that he inwardly groaned at the thought of having to go back to the routine of taking care of them by himself. He joked to himself about the prospect of getting Clover to just move in permanently, but after the fun of the joke went away... it made him genuinely wonder if that could be possible.

It would be so nice if he got to keep Clover here.

...But what about Atlas?

Qrow just about registered the sound of the girls going out the front door while he sank further into the sofa, the feeling of warm lips on his forehead before Clover left with Yang and Ruby. Qrow smiled in his half-sleep.

It would be so wonderful to wake up to forehead kisses every day, cosy cuddles in bed before the alarm goes off. Lazy chatter as they watch the raindrops of the rare storm trailing down the window on a chilly Sunday morning.

But what about Atlas?

Qrow hadn’t had a relationship like this since he was young and still believed in true love. And that was more than a long time ago. Back when fairy tales had tricked him into wishing on shooting stars, when the kindness of fictional characters had left him convinced that there was good in everyone. But he was feeling that again, somewhere in the shrivelled-up core of his chest. That hope, that gentle curiosity. Clover made him want to believe in fairy tales again, in true love. After all, this wasn’t a fairy tale. Clover was right in front of his eyes, a man who’d gone through hardships all his own and yet still came out with a lucky smile and so much love to give, to waste on Qrow.

But what about Atlas?

Qrow grimaced and shook his head, laying down properly on the sofa and wincing as he shifted his leg, gripping the fabric of his trousers to move the lanky limb gingerly. He grabbed a cushion tight, squeezing it as if it had offended him, and pressed it over his face. What _about_ Atlas?! Why couldn’t Clover just stay here? With him? He could, couldn’t he? Was Qrow being a fool thinking they could have a life together, or was it actually possible for him to get a happily ever after like all the tales?

Or would he ruin it all? Would he end up ruining Clover?

He was too afraid to even tell Clover he loved him. After everything Clover had done for him, was still doing for him. After everything Clover had already put up with, and Qrow couldn’t even say how he felt out loud. He scowled to himself under the pillow; he thought he was doing something right, that he was saving Clover. He was, wasn’t he? Or was he making it worse? Was it going to become some self-fulfilling prophecy, that his hesitation was going to be the thing to drive away this wonderful man who deserved all the love in the world?

What was Clover even doing here with Qrow? What the hell was it about him that made Clover want to come back?

Pity?

Or... perhaps Clover meant it when he said he loved Qrow. But... why?

Qrow shook his forehead and held the cushion to his chest, shutting his eyes in defeat. The cushion was one of many things Summer had “fancied up” with her embroidery way back in Beacon. Little threads of yellow and white made daisies on one corner, while clumsily-stitched roses adorned the majority of the cushion. The stitching was almost as sloppy as her handwriting, something Qrow could never resist teasing her about. The first few weeks after he found them, his poor friends, he’d held that cushion close, tried to smell the lingering residue of flowery perfume and gunpowder. The ghost of Summer remained in her scent, and then it was gone. Same with Tai – his flower patch died, became overgrown with weeds and invasive plants that stretched out through the back garden.

Qrow couldn’t bring himself to even go upstairs to bed, to pass their bedroom to reach his own (which at the time was nothing more than a spare room he’d called dibs on whenever he visited), so he slept on the sofa – or simply passed out there.

It had been too easy to drink during those first weeks, easier to continue long after as well. Old habits, he supposed. Everyone in the tribe used to drink, the adults had given him and Raven strong whiskies and rum in place of lullabies and cuddly toys when it was time for bed; that’s just how things were. But this was different now. This wasn’t just an accompaniment in his general life, this was a thing he now needed to live at all. He’d stopped answering Oz’s calls, stopped counting the days. Stopped thinking, stopped feeling. He just filled the emptiness with cheap booze. Even after guardianship of the girls was signed over to him, he drank. They needed him, far more than he needed his flask, and yet he carried on. As if his pain was any more important than theirs. Gods, what a pathetic man he was. How could anyone truly love him?

Clover didn’t know this part of Qrow. Hopefully he’d never find out.

But Qrow supposed that wouldn’t be fair on him, on either of them, really. Clover deserved to know what he was really getting himself into. Perhaps, soon, Qrow might find the courage to tell him. Perhaps, soon, he might find the courage to return those three words to Clover at last.

\---

Qrow didn’t know when he fell asleep. All he knew was that he woke up to a comforting hand gently shaking his shoulder, and soft lips on his forehead. Clover’s eyes were the first thing Qrow saw when he opened his own, those vibrant ocean waves welcoming him back into the real world from whichever abyss his mind had been dwelling in. He smiled a little, hands trailing over the embroidered cushion still on his chest.

“There you are, baby bird.” Clover ran his thumb over Qrow’s cheek, rustling the first hairs of stubble.

“I thought you were gonna take the girls to school.” Qrow yawned.

Clover gave him a funny look, his smile lopsided with confusion. Gods, he looked so goofy it was impossible for Qrow not to love him. Clover shook his head, “it’s lunch time.”

Qrow blinked, before letting out a long-suffering groan. “I can’t have been asleep that long.”

“You clearly needed the rest.” Clover laughed softly, spying the half-full glass of water still on the coffee table. “I don’t think I need to ask if you’ve eaten yet, hm?”

Qrow rolled his eyes miserably, before feeling a flutter in his chest at the way Clover slipped his arm around his shoulder blades to help sit him up. “Hey, come on, I can move by myself.”

“I want to help, Qrow.” Clover said simply, taking his sweet time in sliding his fingers around Qrow’s shoulders under the pretence of fixing his cape. “Go on, let me take any excuse to put my hands on you.”

“You could charm a snake, soldier boy.” Qrow smirked.

“I’m more of an avian guy, personally.” He winked in response, and Qrow couldn’t think of a more fitting response than pecking him on the lips.

“You’re awful.”

“When you say it like that, it hardly sounds like a complaint.” Clover chuckled, before standing up, “Now, stay put, I’m gonna make you something to eat.”

“I hope you’re not ordering me about.” Qrow crossed his arms, and for the first time he enjoyed the rise of colour blooming in his cheeks.

Clover simply raised a triangular eyebrow at Qrow as he walked past. “Would you want me to?”

Qrow scoffed. “We’ll see.”

Clover hummed, but finally left for the kitchen, and Qrow slumped back and let his eyes settle on his colour cast. He frowned to himself as he thought he may have smudged a few ladybird drawings, until he saw the red flicker and crackle. It was nothing more than his Aura making the occasional burst of light (and healing pain) under the gauze, restoring his ankle. The painkillers were starting to wear off now, leaving the aches to filter through and stubbornly make themselves known all up his leg. The pain tensed the muscles of his thigh, left his hip on that side uncomfortably tight; even his ass started to hurt.

Qrow had to bite his tongue as he reached his water, popping two sickly white pills that, of course, stuck to the back of his throat when he tried to swallow and started to dissolve before he got the chance to down another mouthful of water. Typical. His face twisted inwards as he fought down the fizz and pill remnants.

Soon enough, Clover came back with sandwiches, thin slices of peppered roast chicken and lettuce hugged between brown bread, the same that Yang and Ruby had been sent off with in their lunch. Qrow didn’t really like brown bread as much, but Clover insisted it was healthier and all Qrow could respond with was a roll of his eyes. Qrow still took the sandwich gladly and ate with Clover, letting a nice quiet hold them together for the time being.

“I take it Cathy let you come back to check on me?” Qrow eventually asked.

Clover nodded, reaching over and casually wiping a crumb off Qrow’s cheek (and pretending not to notice the pink that rose up with his touch). “I had to make sure my pretty bird was okay.”

“You’re really sticking to the bird names, eh?”

“Well, you have half a dozen pet names for me and I haven’t nearly as many for you.” Clover chuckled.

“What can I say? The gods didn’t make me with cutesy nicknames in mind.” Qrow shrugged, as if he didn’t adore the way the cute names made him feel.

“I beg to differ, I just need to think of some.” Clover put his plate down once he’d finished.

Qrow simply rolled his eyes again and moved to do the same with his plate, wincing as he leaned more weight on his tense leg without thinking.

“You alright?” Clover took Qrow’s plate and put it to the side, his eyebrows tilting up with worry.

“I’m fine, I just... I dunno, my leg hurts.”

“Your whole leg?”

“Yeah – my ankle won’t stop aching, so it’s making everything else seize up. You can’t even be in pain these days without it going overboard, eh?”

Clover didn’t laugh. Instead he pouted and put a hand on Qrow’s knee; Qrow tried to ignore the little shiver of excitement that managed to override the pain momentarily. Now was not the time, he told himself – whether his body wanted to listen or not was seemingly out of his control.

“Quit fretting, Cloves, the pills’ll kick in soon and I’ll be fine.” Qrow tried to wave him off, hating to see Clover worried (over him, of all things). “Don’t you have to head back to Lucky Birds?”

“I still have time, don’t you worry.” Clover smiled soothingly. “Would that numbing stuff help? The stuff you used on me?”

Qrow shook his head. “I don’t think it’ll do much to unwind the muscles. Really, it’s fine.”

“How about a massage?”

Qrow paused. Clover looked genuinely serious. Well, serious was perhaps the wrong word. He didn’t look stern, he just looked honest, and it completely threw Qrow. Suddenly a warmth started to flourish in him again, a want. The thought of Clover squeezing his thigh, his hip... kneading into his ass... He scratched the back of his neck as he stammered, searching for a response. How one comment, one man could always say the right thing to reduce Qrow back to his days as a clumsy stuttering teenager utterly frustrated him. It annoyed him, it flustered him, it... enamoured him.

Clover simply smiled over Qrow’s struggles. “I just want you to feel good. I want you to be okay. It doesn’t have to be anything... that you don’t want it to be.” His voice was quiet, gentle. Not much above a whisper but, in the silence of the room, any sound could take centre stage.

Qrow hesitated then, as those words sunk in. This man, this wonderful, sweet, lucky man... he was patient. Patient, and kind, and so ready to love. He was so many things that Qrow simply wasn’t, and the train of thought he’d been stranded on before he fell asleep reignited in his head, full steam driving ahead through his mind.

“...it’s fine.” Qrow finally said. “It – it’s not that. It’s just – it’s fine.”

Clover tilted his head. “Everything okay?”

“Really, you don’t need to worry.” He turned away.

“Did I go too far?”

“I said it’s – ngh.” Qrow grimaced as he heard irritation digging into his tone without him meaning it to, and he ran a hand through his hair to give himself a moment. When he could think of no way to persuade Clover to leave off, he simply settled on defeat and turned to his boyfriend. “You’re wasted on me, you know. All that kindness, all that optimism, it’s just squandered on me.”

Even when Qrow expected the sad look on Clover's face, it still sent a tidal wave of pain through him when it appeared. "Qrow, don't -"

"Why do you want me? Be honest. I _need_ you to be honest, Cloves."

Clover hesitated, his mouth beginning to form words that he didn't know how to finish.

"There doesn't have to be an elegant way to leave, Cloves." He added before he even found himself thinking of it. But as they formed in his mouth, fell from his lips, Qrow saw the sadness in himself for what it truly was. The guilt. Maybe he was a cage that Clover couldn't find a way out of. Maybe Clover stayed because he just didn't want to hurt him, hurt the girls. He was a kind person; it made sense. It made more sense to Qrow if Clover stayed out of obligation than love.

Gods, why was he like this? Why was it easier to think of people as being chained to him rather than wanting to be with him of their own accord? Was he truly that low?

Yet still, the words trailed out of Qrow's mouth. "If you want to go, you can. If that would make you happy -"

Qrow's words were cut off sharply as soft lips were pushed into his. The hand that warmed his knee now squeezed, an unexpected passion taking hold of Clover and making him take hold of Qrow. Qrow's heart stopped briefly, his first instinct to pull away, but as he tasted a tongue sliding across his own, he couldn't help but melt. There was warmth, there was adoration, there was desperation, and Qrow just couldn’t convince himself to fight against it. He was undeserving, of that he was sure, but he still couldn’t. Whether that made him selfish on top of that, Qrow couldn’t say. All he knew was that there was sadness in Clover’s eyes when he finally ended the kiss gently. But there was a determined force overshadowing the sorrow.

"Don't you dare think I want to leave, Qrow." Clover's voice came from a place deep in his chest, a breathless place, a growling place. "Don't you dare let yourself think for a moment that I don't love you. I do." His eyes felt darker as his gaze held Qrow in place, but it wasn't a frightening look. It wasn't a threat or a warning; there was just so much love. It looked like it transgressed Clover that anyone would even suggest otherwise, much less Qrow. The gaze softened, the heat simmering down to tenderness as Clover's free hand cupped Qrow's cheek. "I know it's hard for you. I... I'll admit, it hurt that you couldn't say it back. I was confused - hell, I was offended, even. But... you've already shown me how you feel without having to say it."

Qrow blinked in surprise. "I...?"

"The way you watch me whenever I’m with you. The way you curl into me in bed. The way you trust me with your nieces, with you. You say it back in a hundred little ways and you don't even know it. That's why..." he finally broke their gaze, glancing down and chuckling. That sternness melted, and gave way for a bashfulness that Qrow hadn’t yet seen in the man, at least not to this level. "That's why I smother you with affection and pet names and compliments - true compliments, by the way. Every last one."

Qrow didn’t know what to say. He honestly hadn’t noticed this in himself – was it bad? Did it count, being as condemning as actually saying those words out loud?

Clover’s eyes drifted, taking in the room, but Qrow never stopped watching him, not for one second. He was dangling from Clover’s every word whether he liked it or not.

“You know,” Clover’s voice filled up the room again, “this kind of thing wouldn’t really be allowed in the military.”

Qrow swallowed. That didn’t surprise him.

“Romance is a distraction, apparently. A waste of energy. But you know, if loving you is a waste, then I’d gladly waste everything on you.” Clover smiled.

Qrow couldn’t figure out what he felt more, the guilt threatening to drown him or the elation of Clover’s words that made him want to fly.

“I can’t remember the last time I’ve felt like I’ve been _allowed_ to love like this, Qrow. You have no clue how happy you’ve made me these last few months, do you?” He shook his head, one hand trailing up to cup Qrow’s cheek, a calloused thumb rolling over a strong pale cheekbone. “Maybe right now, you can’t convince yourself you deserve this yet, but it just means I’ll have to keep trying to show you – I’m still going to love you whether you like it or not.”

When was the last time anyone had loved him like this? Qrow couldn’t remember. They hadn’t even been together that long, not in the grand scheme of things, and yet Qrow knew he loved this wonderful, loyal, sweet man. But it felt... wrong, keeping him here, caged in this relationship. “I’m a curse, Cloves. I’m an omen.” He protested weakly.

Clover let out a long sigh, pressing his forehead against his boyfriend’s. “You said a while ago that you can’t afford to lose anyone else. Remember?”

He’d also cocked up by saying he’d die without Clover, as if that wasn’t the most guilt-tripping thing once could say to someone on their first damn date. He visibly cringed at the memory.

“You’re not the only one who feels that way, Qrow.” Clover’s breath was warm on his cheeks – then again, everything about him was warm. “I don’t want to go back to how things used to be for me. I don’t want to go back to...” He sighed, having to abandon that sentence when he found himself unable to complete it. “I didn’t even know I was lonely until I met you. I can’t go back knowing I’ll be alone. You’ve not tricked me into this, you’ve not cursed me. I’m here because I want to be, because I enjoy being with you. I enjoy your quips and sarcasm. Even that endless cynicism of yours.”

Curse that honesty in Clover’s eyes, that unguarded willingness that Qrow was certain only he was privy to. “I’m...” He began quietly, the fight gone from him, “I’m usually proven right.”

“Not this time. Not with me.” He said softly, never once straying far from Qrow. He remained close, keeping himself by Qrow, just where he needed to be. And it seemed, just where he wanted to be. “But you need to start believing that. You need to let me in more. Even if it’s frightening. Can you do that?”

Qrow opened his mouth to speak, and when no words wanted to form, he slowly nodded. But it appeared that that was all Clover needed; he smiled, and kissed Qrow, leading the kiss as he always seemed to. But Qrow didn’t mind, he just wanted to be in Clover’s arms, wanted to be with this unusually pleasant, unusually optimistic man. This wonderful man who was just brimming with love and good fortune.

Maybe Qrow didn’t feel deserving yet, but he sure as all hell wanted a break from the constant guilt and guardedness that followed behind his every footstep, a shadow made of lead. He wanted to be here, with Clover. He wanted to kiss him, to touch him, to feel loved. So he pulled Clover closer to him, wrapped his arms around that strong form. He could have happily let Clover kiss him like this until the end of time – he was tempted to try.

Clover deepened the kiss, and Qrow let him. He dragged his fingers through short brown hair to encourage him closer, the heat and want he’s been trying to stave off finally free to surface. And thankfully, Clover showed he felt the same – his lips strayed from Qrow’s only to drag across rough stubble and teeth made themselves known against a sharp jawline. Qrow tilted his head back gladly, leaning back to make Clover follow.

And follow Clover did, kissing and nibbling with a need at Qrow’s jaw, his neck. The first moan escaped from Qrow as Clover found that sacred spot on his pulse, and if Qrow had any desire to stop, it was gone now.

Heat and warmth and wetness, and devotion. And kisses, and Clover’s hand dragging further up Qrow’s leg inch by inch, feigning stealth like he was confident Qrow wouldn’t notice. Qrow had to smile at that; all he wanted was for Clover to touch him more. He tilted his head back and drew Clover to him, the feeling of teeth scraping his neck sent stars through his chest and up into his head. And when Clover bit down on his pulse, a galaxy of sweet dizzies swept Qrow away. He hadn’t expected the high whine to emerge from his own lips, a signifier of want he seldom made.

“You make the cutest noises sometimes.” Clover growled in his ear, and Qrow pinkened... more.

Trying to save face, he made himself scowl, all the while blood continued to rush to his face... among other places. “Only sometimes?”

Clover chuckled and shook his head. “You are such a brat.”

“Me? Have you seen yourself, soldier boy?” Qrow snickered, feeling very pleased with himself – until Clover’s hand came to rest over his crotch. He tried to bite back the surprised moan willing itself forward by biting his bottom lip. He almost succeeded.

Clover said nothing, simply devoting himself to rubbing circular strokes between his boyfriend’s long legs, each motion sending the loveliest heat through Qrow’s body. Blood drained from his chest straight down to his groin, and Clover’s teeth still worrying his neck certainly added to the mounting lust.

“Do you want it, birdie?” Clover’s voice dipped into a huskier note, and Qrow couldn’t help but shiver.

“Brothers, yes.” Qrow panted, putting his own hand over Clover’s. He couldn’t even acknowledge the pain anymore when every nerve in him was lighting up with excitement, buzzing even; when Clover gave him a cheeky little squeeze, Qrow throbbed.

“Gods, you’re hot. Literally. You’re so toasty.” Clover got a proper feel for Qrow, meanwhile Qrow could do little more than push his hips up into Clover’s hand, begging for that strong grip.

“I – _aah_ – like to think I’m figuratively just as hot, too.” He shut his eyes, knowing damn well that his face must be shamefully pink but losing the will to care.

“For crying out loud – how are you still able to make quips?”

“ _Hmm_... You’re obviously not doing enough, soldier boy.”

Clover’s hand stilled, leaving Qrow to deal with the ricochet of want, the irritating way his starved body begged for affection again. Qrow pinched his bottom lip between his teeth, watching as Clover moved from his neck to let their foreheads knock comfortably together. It was clear then that Qrow wasn’t the only one in need, not with how blown out Clover’s pupils were, lust eclipsing that odd shade of green Qrow had instantly been smitten by. “Is that a challenge?”

Qrow swallowed. “If you want it to be.”

Clover raised an eyebrow, smirked at his old crow’s mischief. He kissed Qrow then, sloppily, a mess of tongues and teeth and lips, but Qrow liked it most like that. He silently clocked Clover’s other arm dipping down to his lower back, encouraging the bucking of slender hips just in time for him to squeeze Qrow’s confined hardness. Qrow could only moan into Clover’s mouth, wanton, sliding his hand down to the hem of his vest. Pale fingers found the edge of the fabric and slipped underneath, dragging his fingernails up Clover’s abs just hard enough for him to shiver. Because gods be damned Qrow wasn’t going to be the only one explored today.

And just as Clover unzipped Qrow’s pants, Qrow’s hand drifted further up and discovered a nipple. And when he squeezed the perky pink flesh, Clover stuttered out a gasp against Qrow’s lips.

“ _Ooh_ , you sensitive there?” Qrow preened, devilish as ever.

“Sh-shut it.” Clover panted, sucking in a sharp breath when Qrow fondled that sweet nipple until it pebbled under his touch.

Qrow angled himself so he could move closer, nibbling Clover’s bottom lip, “Looks like we’ve all got our little sweet spots, eh? Even the brave, strong Ace Ops Captain.”

Clover couldn’t help but allow a breathless chuckle to escape as he let himself lean into Qrow’s wondrous touch. “You’re the only one... the only one I let my guard down with.”

Qrow’s heart sang at that, the incredible feeling that Clover was his and only his, rushed through his veins like adrenaline. It made him feel valuable, it made him feel wanted, and needed. He put a promise on those words by nipping his lover’s jawline, sucking the skin and leaving a signature of purple behind. “...Thank you, Cloves. Thank you.”

Clover smiled, slipping his hand into Qrow’s briefs at last and gripping his cock with a firmness that left Qrow keening. The relief of finally being touched, flesh on flesh, sent his head spinning, made the loveliest heat burst through him. He let himself get lost in the haze of pleasure as he gazed down, watching Clover grind his fist up and down his swollen length. The head was painfully pink, pre already forming in little white beads that, when Clover moved his hand up to thumb at it, smeared across the sensitive skin.

“F-fuck, Cloves...” He watched, enamoured, as Clover dragged the creamy white over his cock, wetting the skin so he could move faster and faster without the burn of friction spoiling the pleasure. “Gods, _fuck_ , don’t stop...”

“I don’t plan to.”

“Oh, shut up – _aah_...!” He tilted his head back as Clover squeezed his base, trapping the blood in his length just long enough to make him throb in his lover’s hand.

Gods, it was bliss being held like this. Qrow felt so safe in these firm hands, held steady as the pleasure rippled through him, the friction more than enough to light up his every nerve. Were it not for Clover’s hold on him, his world may have fallen from his axis. And now that he knew what Clover’s touch felt like, he found he couldn’t stand the thought of anyone else’s hands on him, much less his own hands on anyone else. Even through the haze of lust, even through all that, Qrow found himself... not feeling so broken anymore. Sappy as it was, bordering on even cheesy, Qrow had to admit that he felt himself being brought back together in Clover’s hands, in his warmth, in his eyes.

He knew now why he loved Clover’s scent so much. It smelled of home.

A place he’d always belong to.

"You sound amazing when you're like this..." Clover's breath was hot against Qrow's ear, "gods, I wish I could take you to bed and just have you like this."

Qrow groaned, the fingers up Clover's shirt flexing until he was fondling his lover's nipple again. He let out the cutest gasp as Qrow played with him, and he was rewarded with Clover's steady hand speeding up to pump his cock. Over and over and over again; Qrow watched with wonder, his eyes following the push and pull of Clover's hand until he was lifting his hips into the touch, so desperate to follow the pleasure. All the while Clover moaned and whispered the sweetest nothings into Qrow's ear. That he was beautiful. That he was loved. That he was everything he believed he wasn’t. His face was hot and his eyes were rolling back, moans dripping from a mouth that no longer cared enough to close. He must have looked a state, but he didn't care much about that either.

"Cloves...! Gods, don't you dare stop...!" He cried out, a little embarrassed at how high his voice had risen but not embarrassed enough to reel himself back in.

But what took him by surprise was the sight of Clover getting up, shifting as quickly and as carefully as he could manage until he was knelt before Qrow's lap, gripping the tops of his thighs and pulling his pants further down. His eyes were so clear, even when they were swimming with lust. And they were filled to the brim with a silent confidence. For the first time in an age, Qrow almost felt shy.

A testing silence fell over them, curtainlike, until Qrow could hear nothing more than his own trembling breath and thumping heart, muffled by blood and bone and hot, heightened skin. Clover kept his eyes locked with Qrow’s, and probed forward, his movements experimental. Testing the waves before diving in. He shut his eyes only to nuzzle deep into the very inner section of Qrow’s milky thigh, nipping at the muscle in a way that left Qrow with hot shivers. Ever mindful of Qrow’s injury, Clover crept closer between his lover’s legs until he was licking at taut balls, sensitive and full in anticipation. Qrow let himself moan, and if he had even a drop of blood left in his upper body, he might have been embarrassed at how the noise came out as more of a strangled sob than anything else.

“Is that good, birdie?” Clover smirked.

“No, I’m just moaning to amuse myself.” Qrow bit back, not bothering to glance down at the shameless grin his snide got him. But any sarcastic jab he wanted to add on died in the back of his throat when a sinfully hot tongue pressed into the head of his dick, fully aware of how sensitive the weeping slit was considering how faithfully it was targeting it. Zoning in on all the sweet spots until Qrow couldn’t bring himself to focus on anything else. All that mattered was this wonderful feeling, this mouth swallowing him up in every way imaginable.

Qrow wondered if it was a mistake to gaze downward, because the sight that greeted him was a secret beauty he knew he’d never find a match for. Nothing could compare to the wat he just disappeared further and further into Clover’s mouth, the content confidence in his lover’s eyes that reminded him that he was in safe hands (well, safe _mouth_ , technically). Clover’s lips were wet with saliva and pre, but for the most part he was a clean eater, a devoted one too.

Qrow could feel his chin digging into his collarbone with how far down his head was tilted, knowing the angle was going to ache later but also knowing it’d be damn well worth it. He couldn’t tear his eyes away, couldn’t break the gaze Clover had trapped him in; he didn’t even notice one of Clover’s hands disappearing between his own legs, too enticed by the image of his face swallowing, licking, _sucking_ until there was nothing left of Qrow’s resolve.

He grabbed at handfuls of chestnut brown hair as the beautiful heat began to burn. “I – I can’t, I... _fuck_... Clover, _please_ , I need... I _can’t_...!” The words dribbled out of Qrow’s mouth but it was all he could manage, what with the utter state he was in. And Clover just gazed up at him so sweetly that there was no way for him to hold back. His eyes rolled into the back of his head and he tried to bite his tongue, but his haggard voice broke out nonetheless, filling the room with the sound of his cries and filling Clover’s mouth with creamy salt.

Heat broke through Qrow in waves, lust rolling over him and lighting up every nerve along the way. He couldn’t breathe, didn’t want to. He just wanted this feeling to drown him.

And so he settled, a boneless mass on the sofa, air sucking back into his lungs in a violent swirl. He twitched and trembled in a way he never had before. He’d never had it as good as this. It was only a blowjob... was Clover some gods-gifted expert on cock, or had Qrow just never been blessed with any partners that ranked above mediocre in that department? Given his luck, anything was possible.

“Why’re you laughing? Hm?” Clover’s rasping voice roused Qrow from his little trance; he hadn’t even heard himself snickering.

He went to answer, only to finally notice the delightful condition Clover was getting himself in. A tell-tale trail of cum left a streak of white down his chin, his cheeks were flushed through with a lovely warmth. His pupils were blown out over his turquoise eyes, and he had a hand between his own legs.

“Is...” Qrow swallowed dryly, “is that good, lucky charm?”

Clover groaned, nuzzling his head into Qrow’s lap as he quickened the pace with his hand.

Qrow licked his lips – it was only fair to offer, and he was dying for another taste. “Let me take care of that.”

“You want to?” Clover panted.

“Like nothing else. Now get up.”

Clover had to laugh softly at his lover’s bossiness, and did as he was told. It was only a moment of repositioning – Qrow leaning forward, Clover half-kneeling on the armrest of the sofa – until Qrow was kissing at the happy trail leading to the prize, kiss by kiss, until finally he got to the begging head. He let out a little breathless moan (more for Clover than for himself), wetting his lips with precum. This obviously wasn’t his first time taking Clover into his mouth (the heady scent almost held a sense of sinful nostalgia to him now), but he doubted he’d ever get used to just how big his lover was.

He made a show of flattening his tongue against that tip, melting as Clover’s taste spread over his tastebuds, and he gazed up at his lover. With one hand he gripped Clover’s burly thigh, and with his other he lifted up Clover’s vest to fiddle with a pretty pink nipple and exposing his abs to the air. He loved seeing the way it made his lover shiver and moan; Qrow’s blasted nerves tingled with satisfaction as he took the first few inches of Clover’s cock into his mouth. He hollowed his cheeks and dragged his lips off, ending with a loud “pop”, before diving back down to repeat the process until Clover’s hardness was dribbling white and his length was shining, wet with saliva. In the beginning, it was difficult fitting much more into his mouth, so Qrow made do with sucking and swallowing enthusiastically around what he could hold and stroking what he couldn’t. Clover didn’t seem to mind; his mouth was slotted open as he panted, licking his lips to taste the remains of Qrow as he watched, captivated, his hand finding its way into Qrow’s mess of salt-and-pepper hair and _yanking_.

Qrow was spent, but he could still love the way his scalp stung with the movement. He put his own hand over Clover’s, gazing up so longingly at him, trying to let him know he could pull again. To put meaning to the words he couldn’t speak, Qrow sank his mouth deeper down until course hairs tickled his nose and his throat burned. After the absolute bliss Clover had just put him through, he only found it fair to give more of a show to his lover.

And Clover caught on quickly, the clever boy he was. He gave a little gasp as he realized what Qrow was offering, before he smiled, and _gods_ Qrow would do anything to be smiled at like that.

Clover bit his bottom lip and tightened his grip in Qrow’s locks, dragging his head back before forcing him forward again, thrusting his hips experimentally to meet Qrow’s lips, trying to gauge how much he could get away with. When Qrow moaned and accepted the load, Clover let out a raggedy gasp.

“Brothers-light-and-dark... you’re incredible, Qrow... _fuck_ , you’re so incredible... gods, I love you... _fuck_...!” The chorus of that wonderful voice was all Qrow needed to cope with the sting in the back of his throat, gazing up happily at his lover, never once forgetting to tug and tease at those sensitive nipples until Clover was seeing stars.

It couldn’t have been long after that when Clover’s breath started coming out in long wasted pants, the few seconds of silence when he clenched his jaw and cried out between his grit teeth, and his cum poured down Qrow’s worn throat. Gods, Clover looked perfect like this. Qrow felt himself drowning in that heady scent, that bitter taste on his tongue.

The soft starry quiet was only accompanied by Clover’s breathing as he gently withdrew from his lover, kneeling on the sofa to wrap his arms around Qrow with such a grip it made Qrow feel giddy.

“Holy fuck, you’re perfect, baby bird,” he whispered, only a handful of his sweet nothings actually managing to pierce Qrow’s haze, “gods, I love you, I love you so much, Qrow.”

Qrow tried not to feel guilty at those words. He tried his best not to spoil the feeling in the air. He pulled down Clover’s top and rested his head atop his boyfriend’s prosthetic sternum. “Thank you.”

He could feel Clover’s smile when he kissed the top of Qrow’s head and, for a time, that lessened the guilt. He had to vaguely shift for Clover to pull his pants back up, but apart from that he happily stayed nuzzled into his boyfriend. Qrow could have happily slept like that, but Clover eventually had to withdraw, slicking back his hair as the sweat dried his locks into a partial wave. “Do you need a bath? New pants?”

Qrow smiled warmly, pinching Clover’s cheek. “I’ll be fine, soldier boy.”

“You sound hoarse. Was I too rough?”

Qrow’s throat did hurt, but he found he quite liked it. “A small sacrifice for what you just gave me.” He leaned forward and licked a stray blob of white from the corner of Clover’s mouth. It was his own salt – about a decade ago he might have found such a thing unpleasant, but now he felt he liked the taste – when it was mixed with the taste of Clover, at least. Clover blinked in surprise, before chuckling and kissing Qrow with a tenderness he usually wouldn’t have seen himself as deserving of. But whether he was deserving or not, he didn’t care, because Clover gave this to him regardless. And if someone as wonderful as Clover saw worth in him... maybe there was something worthwhile after all.

Clover only left him long enough to get Qrow water, more of his painkillers – and a few chocolate drops, to take away the taste of salt and sweat. “Open wide.” Clover said as he held out the little chocolate.

Qrow rolled his eyes, but did as he was told – which surprised himself above anyone else. The chocolate was sweet, creamy on his tongue, and he watched Clover eat one himself before he glanced at the clock. “Hm... looks like you’re gonna have to head back, soldier boy.”

Clover smiled sadly. “I’m afraid so. Will you be okay?”

“Of course. You fed me, didn’t you?” Qrow smirked, his heart ringing with the way Clover laughed.

“Get your mind out of the gutter, and get some rest. Don’t forget to have some pain killers before you sleep, though.”

“Yes, sir. Now go on, get outta here.”

Clover smiled and stood up, kissing both of Qrow’s cheeks longingly, before reluctantly leaving once again. Qrow sighed and leaned back into the sofa, half-tempted to conk out then and there. But he knew what Clover would say. So he took the nasty powdery pills, swallowing them down with more chocolate, though realizing it didn’t taste quite as sweet as Clover. It seemed nothing could compare.


	32. Chapter 32

Qrow’s hands were cold when they reached into Clover’s chest.

The man had skin like porcelain, the delicate resin that makes up the pieces of a ball-jointed doll, like the ones his mother used to collect. Hollowed out. Lifelike and yet lifeless. Somewhere, lost in the snowfields, Clover’s heart twisted at the memory.

Visions of dolls and snow were often brought to mind when the Captain was graced with the form of his beloved, when light danced across his body, shining against scars and sparkling in rosy red eyes. This time, he didn’t merely look doll-like, he looked as though he were a real doll, as if resin had been carved and formed into the perfect shape of Qrow. His body was segmented at the joints, elastic string acting at the undercurrent that held the man together. But one single snip of that string and...

Glass eyes, blown with red, searched through Clover’s exposed ribs, through blood, and lithe fingers worked around the maze of bone fragments and metal.

“It’s gone.” Qrow said softly, pulling back from the chasm in Clover’s chest, and looked up at him with a hint of curiosity. “Where is it?”

Clover looked around, feeling nothing. He shouldn’t be so neutral about this, he knew that. And yet there was nothing for him to do except observe, absorb the information around him. The tundra was melting, it seemed, crystalline snow breaking down like particles until there was nought but a grey sludge. But between the slush, there grew blades of grass. Hopeful little buds of Spring that had spent so long only dreaming of blooming.

But it was still so, so cold. The environment around him was changing so rapidly, but not enough to nurse the break of Spring to full health. The green slivers froze where they grew until they became glass, and the slush resolidified in protest.

“I’m sure it’s here somewhere.” Clover’s voice came when he needed it, but not from him. It carried through the wind, through Qrow’s inky black feathers that sprouted in bundles around his shoulder blades. Qrow stretched his long wings, each the height of any man, and positioned them around Clover as he lay uselessly against the snow floor, pinned by a long shard of steel, a makeshift sword. Clover’s heart was not in his chest, but he felt it pick up as those wings blocked out the world surrounding them. But, somehow, he knew Qrow was doing it to keep him safe. He wanted so badly to reach up and cup his cheeks, to bring him down and hold him, to fill the void inside himself with Qrow. Perhaps the man in front of him could become a new heart of sorts. But visions of birds caught in traps and cages flooded his vision, and he left the idea to rot away in his grey matter, abandoned it in favour of Qrow’s freedom.

It’s not as if he could have acted on those urges anyway. His arms were frozen into the ground, as though Clover himself was becoming one with the tundra, swallowed whole by the stern cold of Solitas.

“I’ll keep it safe,” Qrow promised, holding his hands over the open pit that was once Clover’s chest, protecting the delicacies inside from the frigid world, “but I need you to give it to me.”

“I... I already have.” Clover frowned in confusion at the sound of his own voice. Qrow helped lift him to a sitting position, breaking him away from the icy bed his mind had situated him in. He didn’t understand what he was saying, or what it meant. But it was his voice, his true voice. Everyone has a “true” voice, the voice you hear in the back of your head, reading all your thoughts to you like a constantly-churning script. The voice you speak with sounds similar... but not quite exact to it. Clover was sure if he heard his true voice in the real world, he wouldn’t even recognize it as his own.

Qrow shook his head softly, offering him a patient smile, the sort of look he’d give to one of the girls. “No... not quite.”

His head snapped up to the sky suddenly, and watched as the softest blues became corrupted now by pollution, by Dust and fuel and smoke spilling out from crashing airships and flying Grimm. And the worst part of the chaos was that Clover could feel it all within the space in his chest. Every spark, every stray fling of shrapnel or Dust, all poking and stabbing and burning the walls of his ribs. Gasoline dripped down his spine into his gut. It seeped into his bloodstream like a disease, filling up his veins to the splitting point. Sheer terror collapsed onto him as prisoner cargos began falling from the sky like infernal samaras. Qrow leaned over Clover, determined to keep him safe, but it was futile. Clover knew the dangers of this landscape all too well by now.

Somewhere out there, Callows laughed, maddening giggles carried by the wind. Clover could see Hell in his dreams, on the battlefield. But now he understood why.

He had lived through a certain kind of Hell once. And now Hell lived in him.

His shoulders were shaken violently to rouse him from his nightmare, but he still felt paralysed, could still feel jet fuel and unstable Dust spurting through his veins, pooling in his abdomen. The icy grip of Solitas froze his spine in place even as he awoke, staring up wide-eyed at Qrow’s worried expression.

The Qrow in his dreams was hardened, unreal, but the real Qrow, his Qrow, was so much softer. Life flushed through his skin in echoes of dreamy pink, his eyes glimmered with light, his skin warm. That beautiful visage softened around the edges, blurred, swirled within Clover’s vision as he was brought into the waking world through Qrow’s raspy voice. “Jesus, Cloves, are you crying?”

“I... I...” It was hard to think, it was hard to breathe. Reality felt unwelcoming, and sleep felt devotedly hostile.

“Nightmares?” He stroked Clover’s face, brushed away the wetness that leaked from his eyes, before laying back and pulling Clover to him, ever careful of his back. “Relax, okay? C’mere.”

And Clover laid his head onto Qrow’s chest, listening to the muted rhythm of his heart. He placed a hand over his own chest, just shy of his circular scar, and checked that his own heart was there. It drummed against his metal sternum with a vengeance, pumping so hard like it was trying to escape his body. He wished Qrow could reach inside and hold the thing, caress it gently as he so often caressed Clover’s cheeks, his hair, until it was soothed. Until visions of Hell drifted away like a lost thought, an end of a thread. But the fear remained, clinging to him, not yet willing to let him go.

“Just try to breathe, lucky charm, alright? Before you suffocate yourself.”

He felt so weak. He felt so pathetic. He shouldn’t need to be cradled like a damn child, mothered into a calmer state of mind. It was a dream, it was just a dream. He knew that.

So why was he still shaking?

The morning light crept in from the windows, just shy of the shadows. He looked around the room as he pulled in oxygen through his nose, only releasing each breath back into the world once it began to burn in his lungs. He looked at the doorway that led into the ensuite, the yellowed white ribbon that had once been tied neatly around the doorknob. He looked at the bookshelf, eyes lingering on that black leather book that he’d snuck a peak at only a week or so ago.

Qrow stroked his short hair as he came back to himself, and Clover let himself revel in the touch. This was real. This was Qrow. This was Vale. He was safe.

But... his home was Solitas. His home was Atlas. That was where he should feel the safest. But now, when he remembered the ice and cold, the warships, he felt the hot stirring of stomach acid in his pit. He was disgusted with himself. No soldier should feel that way towards their home, least of all him, the fucking Captain. He tried to blame it on his head still waking up, still shaking off the remnants of fear, but his heart knew the feeling would linger.

What a worthless solider he was turning out to be.

“You feeling better?” Qrow’s gentle voice reached him, but it offered little comfort. How could he feel better right now?

“Yeah,” he lied, “yeah, I feel fine.”

“That must have been a nasty dream.” Qrow regarded him closely, leaning back against the pillow. “You were crying in your sleep.”

“No I wasn’t.” He heard himself say as he sat up, clenching his jaw. He shouldn’t feel like this. He shouldn’t allow himself to feel like this. “I’m fine.”

Qrow frowned, raising an eyebrow at his boyfriend. He looked like he could see right through him, and it only aided in setting Clover on edge, on revealing all the sharp edges of his inadequacy. “What, was I wiping away imaginary tears? You were crying – ”

“I said I’m fine, god damn it!” Clover barked, pulling himself out of the bed. His vest was drenched in sweat, sticking to his chest and rubbing uncomfortably under his arms.

“Hey, you don’t get to take that tone with me – !” Qrow sat up, wincing a little as he shifted his leg under the sheets, but Clover could only just hear him over the throbbing of his heart in his ears.

“I’m fine, okay?! I’m fine!” Clover moved out of Qrow’s reach, going to the ensuite, “Can we just leave it? Please. I’m fine.”

He didn’t wait for a response, he just walked into the bathroom, leaning on the door after he shut it.

What was that? What was that?

He ran a hand through his hair, covering his face as regret washed through him like a cold shower. What was wrong with him?

He was not fine. He was clearly not fine.

He was pathetic.

It was the only thing he could think as he showered in silence, pressing his forehead against the hard cubicle tiles as water washed down his back, warming up the unnatural metal segments that had made an uncomfortable dwelling place on his form. The water was hot enough to boil a lesser creature, but he needed it like that.

Maybe Clover was going soft. Maybe he’d spent too long pretending to a civilian. Maybe he needed to go back to Atlas.

He covered his face with his hands. It hurt just thinking like that. He knew damn well it would kill him if he left now – at least, if he left by himself. Qrow was his family, those sweet kids were his family. It wasn’t fair on himself to cut his presence out of their lives, and it certainly wasn’t fair to abandon them after everything they’d already been through.

But if they came with him to Atlas... if they lived with him there... would the snowfields feel less cold? Would the memory of blood stop forcing bile up his throat? Could that vision of happiness finally get rid of the fear swimming in his blood?

Breakfast had been understandably quiet that morning. Qrow kept himself occupied getting the girls ready who, while they pretended to be none the wiser, it was clear they could sense the tension.

“Are you and Uncle Qrow angry with each other?” Yang asked him once they were mere minutes away from the school.

Clover sighed a little, squeezing her hand lightly in his. “We just had a rough start this morning, sunshine. You don’t need to worry about us grown-ups.”

“Nightmares?” Ruby looked up at him with big, knowing eyes.

Clover hesitated. “I’ll be okay.”

“What do you have nightmares about?” Ruby tapped his thumb with her index finger as they walked.

“Just... silly adult things.”

“Like what?” Yang asked.

“Just – ” He withdrew before he snapped again, biting his tongue to stop himself. It wasn’t fair to lash out at literal children over his ridiculous feelings. “I was in the Atlas military before I hurt my back. I was sent on some pretty scary missions.”

“Ooh, did you fight really big Grimm?” Yang smiled.

“Grimmy Grimm.” Ruby giggled.

“Not just Grimm. I had to deal with naughty kids who ask too many questions.” Clover scooped Ruby up and she squeaked with surprised laughter.

He noticed that she was heavier than she used to be... it had only been a few months, and yet he’d gotten to witness a fragment of her growth already. The realisation washed over him like warm water, shocking but comforting. It was enough to make him forget about the unnerving fragments that remained of his nightmare. This tiny girl who suddenly meant so much to him had already spent a fraction of her little life with him in it. It formed a lump in his throat and made a wet heat sting in his eyes, but it was a joyful feeling. He laughed with her and let go of Yang’s hand briefly to plop Ruby on his shoulders.

He wished this joy would override the fear hanging over him. It didn’t.

\---

Despite the joys from earlier that day, Clover was starting to get tired. Specifically, he was getting of Ruby trying to drink the shampoo.

The bathroom was a small cubicle, the walls a cooling sweet blue, the exact colour of candy floss (though Yang insisted it was called cotton candy, simply because that’s what her parents called it). The bathtub was filled with pleasantly warm water, a sweet-smelling mix of bubbles and foam, and two rambunctious little girls.

He knelt by the tub on the bathmat, one hand holding the shower head out of Yang’s mischievous reach and the other trying to squeeze shampoo onto Ruby’s head without letting her consume the stuff – in her lukewarm defence, it was cookies-and-cream scented. Somehow, the strong scent of artificial vanilla and brown sugar was enough to convince her that the stuff would taste as good as the real thing... even after she’d already tasted it and should have known better by then. But the stubbornness of children was, more often than not, a thing not to be trifled with.

Clover was tired, and above all he was worried. There had been too many thoughts in his head, and perhaps his dreams were merely a manifestation of that. With every passing day, Callows was still somewhere in Atlas – or perhaps he’d already managed to flee. Perhaps Clover had been too late, perhaps he’d failed to keep the people of Atlas safe from that monster.

It had been such a simple mission and he’d screwed it up.

All that had been required of him was to capture Callows and bring him to Atlas. Elm and Vine were scheduled to go with him – but Clover had been arrogant. He’d insisted on going alone, like some hero from an action movie. That was how he’d often acted, living life like he was the protagonist, protected by plot armour. He had been such a fool.

Atlas had been a dream, honestly. He’d been able to exploit his Semblance against most everyone. He could jump without having to look where he’d land. And look where that got him.

It should have been such a simple mission. It was a simple mission. He had just been an idiot. He’d let his guard down around the psychopath and paid for it dearly.

“I want more bubbles.” Yang prompted, snapping Clover back to reality. But the sour mood lingered like a bitter taste on his tongue. He’d never really been afflicted with this feeling. It was like guilt, but worse. It cut deeper, stuck like rust on his metal spine. That spine may very well serve as a reminder of his foolishness until he finally died.

Clover didn’t know that what he was feeling was self-loathing. He wasn’t used to it.

“The bath is overflowing as it is, kiddo.” Clover stuck a smile onto his face for the girls, before jumping and pulling the bottle of shampoo out of Ruby’s slippery little hands. “Hey – hey! That’s not a drink!”

“Uncle Qrow lets me eat shampoo.” She said coyly, her grasp on speaking longer sentences growing with every passing day... for better or worse.

“I am at least 90% certain he doesn’t let you do that.” Clover narrowed his eyes at the tiny girl, nearly totally obscured by bubbles. “Now head up; it’ll sting if it gets in your eyes.”

She instead stuck her tongue out at him and hid deeper in the midst of white strawberry-scented foam, certain it would deter Clover. Yang laughed and piled more bubbles onto her sister, so he sighed and directed the shower head at them both, the blast of water – however gentle – dissipating the bubbles into the water and revealing the girl’s head.

“You made the bubbles go away!” Yang protested, pointing to the pink bottle behind Clover’s head. “We need more now!”

“Not a chance. Now, for the last time, heads back.”

“No!”

Clover sprayed her with water and she shrieked.

Eventually, nearly all the bubbles had died down, and with very little to distract them, the children did finally do as requested.

“You’re so grumpy today!” Yang frowned as Clover washed her hair, running his hand through gold locks that darkened to a burned sun as it became wet. “You’re not as fun as Uncle Qrow.”

“I’m afraid you’re going to have to put up with me for the time being, sunny dragon.” Clover chuckled, pouring the shampoo on Yang’s scalp and lathering it in. He usually prided himself on efficiency, but he’d never had to wash hair this long before. The weight of the water straightened out the curls for the time being, making long streaks of amber pool around the girl’s waist. As such, he couldn’t help but feel like he was making slow progress, his movements clumsy. And he couldn’t

help but worry he’d pull her hair by mistake. At least Ruby’s hair was short. “Qrow can’t get upstairs unless I carry him – and I think your uncle is a bit too stubborn to let me.” He smiled.

Yang grumbled. “There’s a bathroom downstairs...”

“There’s a shower downstairs. You can’t have bubbles in the shower.”

Yang tilted her head, before grunting in agreement. “It’s been two weeks. Why isn’t he all better yet? When I sprained my ankle I was better by now.”

“Some wounds take longer to heal than others – Ruby. No. Shampoo.” He narrowed his eyes at the tiny girl who’d been reaching for the bottle. Before long, he was finishing both heads of hair and putting the bottle supposedly out of reach. “It’s taken an entire year for my back to get better and it still hurts sometimes.”

“A YEAR?!” Yang spun around in the water, splashing Clover’s vest. “It really took that long?!”

Clover nodded, the phantom scent of the underground ward still up his nose. Bleach and saline drifted up his nostrils, and that sickening metallic taste lingered at the back of his mouth. It didn’t help his mood, naturally.

“What was it like? How did they fix you?” Yang tilted her head. “Did they cut you up like in the movies and – ?”

“I don’t really want to talk about it, Yang.” He cut her off.

“But – ?”

“Yang. Sunshine. It’s not something I like talking about.” He clenched his jaw, feeling the tension in his muscles rising up into his skull. He felt as though he may break like a capillary under too much strain. Pathetic.

Eventually she relented and slumped back into the safety of the water. “Ruby’s drinking the shampoo again.”

Clover’s reflexes snapped into place and he snatched the bottle out of Ruby’s weak grip. “I TOLD YOU NOT TO DO THAT! Do as you’re told for gods’ sake!”

The ferocity in his voice did not sound like his own, but he knew it came from him, from the bubbling anger in the undercurrent of his blood. He was angry at himself, not them, but it splattered out from his lips nonetheless, and guilt replaced the anger as he watched Ruby tear up in seconds. It only took a moment to snap, and seemed to take even less time for the poor girl to shrink back against the other side of the bath and cry.

Yang just stared at them both, jolted by the suddenness of it all. Clover’s shoulders slumped and he put the shower head on its holder, forcing his voice into gentler tones. “Roo, honey, I’m sorry. Don’t cry, I’m so sorry.”

He lifted her out of the bath and wrapped her up in a fluffy towel, one decorated with handstitched flowers, and set her on his lap. The scolding animosity he was directing at himself shouldn’t have been allowed to boil over like that, and he absolutely shouldn’t have allowed himself to take it out on someone so small (even if she was drinking shampoo like some little monster).

“Sorry.” Ruby whispered, staring up at Clover with big watery eyes; hurt swirled with the silver colour like mercury.

That look stabbed at his heart like it was a pin cushion, and he sighed softly. “That was mean of me. I’m sorry I scared you, sweetheart. I just don’t want you getting sick, okay?”

Ruby nodded but remained silent, and in her place Yang stood up in the bath and pointed a finger at Clover. “That was MEAN! Why are you being so grumpy today?!”

“What’s going on up there?!” Qrow’s voice rang out from the bottom of the stairs.

“It’s okay!” Clover called back, though he doubted much of his voice could have been heard over Yang screaming bloody murder. “Alright, alright,” he managed to speak over her eventually, “I think bath time is over. Come on.”

He helped the girls get dressed in Yang’s room, and took down some board games from the top of Yang’s wardrobe to occupy them while he helped Qrow downstairs. He offered Ruby an apologetic smile before he left, but she looked away quickly and snuggled into Ladybug. Getting stabbed through the chest hurt considerably less than that.

He sighed to himself as he went downstairs; this wasn’t fair on the girls. This wasn’t fair on any of them. He needed to get a grip.

“You doing alright, soldier boy?” Qrow glanced at him from the sofa, peeling potatoes in a bowl he kept snug on his lap, “or am I still not allowed to ask?”

Clover forced his legs to carry him over to Qrow, and hugged him. “I’m sorry about this morning. I’m sorry about today.”

He felt Qrow’s shoulders soften, but only just. “You can’t just lash out like that. I wanted to help.”

“I know... I know.” He pulled back, keeping his eyes down, the weight of the guilt and unease on his back refusing to let them lift. “I’m supposed to be the strong one. The one people can depend on, can look to for guidance. I’m not supposed to be...” Weak. Pitiful. Emotional.

“Human.”

Clover finally looked at Qrow in confusion.

Qrow sighed gently. “Coming from someone who’s seen how Atlas works from the outside, I know more about that place than you give me credit for.”

“What do you mean?”

“That place wants soldiers, not people. But people can’t be soldiers all the time – people _shouldn’t_ be soldiers all the time. They definitely shouldn’t feel like they have to be.” Qrow let the potato peeler drop into the bowl and directed his attention completely at Clover. “You’re a good person, Cloves. And you’re pretty strong, all things considered... but you’re just as human as I am.”

Clover frowned, and looked away. “Atlas needs me to be better.”

“Better than human?”

“Better than... this.”

“And what is ‘this’, exactly?” Qrow put an arm around Clover, willing him to open up, to talk. To address what had been bubbling underneath all this time. And Clover turned to look at his boyfriend; there was no judgement in his eyes, no speculation he could detect. He just wanted to help.

But Clover wasn’t sure Qrow _could_ help. He wasn’t sure it was even worth his breath to speak about it. He was a man. He was the Captain of the Ace Ops. He didn’t need to talk about fickle feelings like this. He was sure that, soon enough, he’d get over it. Walk it off, like he was taught. It’s what he had to do.

The memory of Qrow weeping against him came to mind. Bandaged after those Grimm in the forest, crying his heart out for what could have been the first time in... gods only know how long. And he wasn’t weak. Clover would probably feel a second-hand wave of offence if anyone even dared make out that Qrow was weak for feeling, for grieving, for crying.

Maybe... maybe Clover had the wrong idea of what strength was.

He exhaled. “I’ve been having nightmares.”

“I noticed.”

Clover shot him a look.

“Alright, sorry. No more commentary.” Qrow smiled apologetically. “Go on.”

Clover hesitated, looking out the front room window. Even the sunset was cheerfully bright here, a stark contrast to how he felt inside. “I... I’ve been dreaming that I’m back in Solitas, out in the snowfields. I...” He put a hand on his chest, feeling the sickness already forming hard clogs in his throat. “I keep seeing myself getting... skewered.”

Qrow watched him with a gentle expression, rubbing circles over his shoulder blades.

“It’s not just me. I...” He glanced at Qrow like he was admitting guilt to some horrid crime. “I’ve seen him do the same thing to you, too. The sky fills up with airships, with Grimm. Gods, I can smell the sulphur and blood and smoke...” He looked away quickly, his jaw clenching to tight that no more words could spill out. For if they did, Clover wasn’t sure what else might come out.

“Cloves...” Qrow whispered empathetically, stroking his hair.

“I can’t...” He begun. “It was a stupid mistake. I should have been more careful. I underestimated a fucking serial killer. I can’t believe I made such a stupid mistake.”

“...What happened, Clover?” Qrow put the bowl on the table, keeping his careful gaze on his boyfriend.

“Callows was in a prisoner cargo heading to Atlas... the cargo crashed in the middle of the tundra.” Clover shook his head. “It already sounded suspicious – there was nothing for them to crash into. And they stopped answering after they sent a distress signal. I wasn’t supposed to go alone, but I did anyway, because I’m the fucking Ace-Ops Captain and that makes me smarter than everyone else.” He scowled at his past stupidity.

“C’mere.”

Clover looked at Qrow with confusion, but Qrow held out his arms to him nonetheless. Clover exhaled, relented. He leaned into his boyfriend, allowed himself the luxury of being held. He felt Qrow bury his nose into his short hair, shivered as his warm breath crossed over his head, down the back of his neck.

“We’re all arrogant, Clover. We all make mistakes. I know people who’ve made more mistakes than any man, woman or child on this gods-forsaken planet.” He kept his voice soft, tender, holding together the pieces of Clover that he hadn’t even realized were breaking apart. He felt vulnerable like this, like anyone could come along and ram a knife through his chest. But... there was something strangely comforting about being able to lay oneself bare in the arms of another. He was exposed, but safe in Qrow’s arms. The memory of massive black wings caging him came back to mind.

Qrow continued, “I’m not going to tell you that you’ve never made mistakes, soldier boy. But I will tell you that you gotta stop blaming yourself for stuff like that. Or else you’ll end up like...” he sighed, shutting his eyes, “or else you’ll end up like me.”

“That wouldn’t be so bad.” Clover said softly, looking up at Qrow.

Qrow smiled down at him. “You were scared, weren’t you?”

Clover froze up, hesitated. It still felt too taboo, too prohibited. He sat up awkwardly and looked away in shame. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s alright,” Qrow replied, but didn’t push the question. “What was all that upstairs? The girls giving you trouble?”

Clover grimaced. “...I yelled at Ruby.”

Qrow raised an eyebrow, squaring his shoulders as if preparing to get defensive. Clover didn’t blame him; Qrow had every right to defend his girls. “Why?”

“Ruby tried to eat the shampoo. I shouldn’t have lost my cool, I – ”

“The shampoo _again_?!” Qrow pushed himself to his feet, and limped towards the stairs. “RUBY! WHAT HAVE I TOLD YOU ABOUT THE GOD DAMN SHAMPOO?!”

“DON’T YELL AT HER SHE’S SMALL!” Yang shrieked back.

“I DON’T GIVE A DAMN! NO MORE EATING SHAMPOO YOU LITTLE GOBLIN!” Qrow roared in response, before limping his way back by Clover’s side. He noticed Clover’s stunned expression and scoffed. “You need to yell at them sometimes, lucky charm. She’ll poison herself one of these days.”

Clover just felt relieved he wasn’t on the receiving end. “Maybe we should look into bath stuff that aren’t candy-themed, hm?”

“Hm.” Qrow crossed his arms, leaning back into the sofa. “If I’d been caught doing that I would have been left to sleep outside.”

Clover stilled. “....What?”

Qrow went to speak, before noticing just how clear the shock was on Clover’s face. Outside? _Outside_?

“...Now might be a good time to mention I was from the Branwen Tribe.” Qrow bit his bottom lip.

“Thought the name rang a bell.”

“You’re not surprised?”

Clover shook his head slowly. “You’re still you. You don’t exactly scream ‘bandit’ to me.”

Qrow chuckled. “I’ll take that as a compliment. Though I’ve been told my rugged features are one of my charms – ”

“They made you sleep outside as a kid? In the cold?” Clover let himself look as horrified as he felt. “You could have died of exposure.”

“I – ugh.” Qrow went pink and tried to back-peddle, but it was of no use. “That’s just how they were. Are. The weak die, the strong live. If I died, then... well, that would have been my own fault. That’s what they...” Qrow softened a little, “that’s what they told me anyway.”

Clover put a hand over Qrow’s. “Didn’t think they would be like that to their own.”

“They’d be like that to anyone.” Qrow stared blankly at the bowl of potatoes on the coffee table. “Me and Raven had to look out for each other, nobody else was going to. And when my uh... when my Semblance started showing itself...” He grimaced.

Clover tried to tread carefully. “Your parents let this kind of thing happen?”

Qrow chuckled. “Me and Rae are orphans. We never knew our parents – that’s why the tribe took us in. Apparently, they found us just wondering around through the woods. Honestly, with me there, I’m surprised we weren’t set on by Grimm.”

“’Apparently’? Don’t you remember what happened? Or your parents?”

Qrow shook his head, then hesitated, and furrowed his eyebrows. “I... I remember a woman.” He glanced out of the window. “A woman with dark hair. She was there... and then she wasn’t.”

Clover’s heart just broke at the quiet confusion on Qrow’s face, the lost look in his eyes. Clover couldn’t imagine a childhood without his mother, and yet Qrow had never even known his own. The fear the man must have felt as a child, the loneliness, the confusion. Being surrounded by bandits and thugs so early on...

Clover reached and wrapped his arms around Qrow, choosing to let his boyfriends lean on him. This lovely, funny man who’d lost so much so quickly. It explained a great deal. It didn’t help to ease Clover’s own sorrow, his inadequacy, his exhaustion. But it helped him acknowledge it, recognize it for what it was. It helped at least to know your heart was aching with someone instead of being on your own.

“My parents... Raven... Tai... Summer...” Qrow’s voice drifted as he rested his head gratefully on Clover's shoulder, and after that there was silence. Clover took the moment to quietly take in Qrow's features, as he often loved to. The strength in his cheekbones, the knitted curve of sharp eyebrows, the tired gentle lines around his tired gentle eyes.

There were tears in those eyes. "When you lose someone..." He looked up at Clover, the hopeful fear of a lonely child hiding in those features, the child Qrow had been once, "does that pain... Does it ever go away?"

Clover hesitated. Because in absolute truth, he didn't quite know how to describe it. There was no room for pain in the military, there was no room for grief or self-reflection. When he'd lost his mother... He never gave himself the chance to feel that pain. "I..." he began timidly, "At first, it felt like that pain would leave. The sudden reality that... You're all alone in the world."

Clover cleared his throat, feeling the muscles tighten as feelings he'd not given thought to threatened to make themselves known at last.

"Sometimes you'll see something that reminds you of them. A certain type of flower on the street, a certain type of weather, a passage in a book... And sometimes you'll just cry. You'll cry and you'll cry, even after so many years."

Qrow reached out and gently brushed Clover's cheek, stealing a stray tear that blurred Clover's vision. He chuckled weakly and held Qrow's hand. "And you cry because you're so certain they've left you. But... Nobody ever leaves this world. Not really."

"How do you mean?" Qrow asked.

"Well, you find them in those flowers, you find them in the weather, in those book passages." Clover smiled. "I find Chance in a lot of things, in a lot of people."

"Do you find her in Atlas?"

The question came so simply from Qrow's lips, so innocent, that Clover swallowed back the bubble in his throat. The one still looming, threatening to spill free all this worry, this sadness, this loneliness that he'd hid from in every corner of his life. Chance was seldom in Atlas - he supposed that's why it was so easy to let her memory slip away. His shoulders slumped. "No." He admitted. "No, she's.... She's never there. She's not been with me for a long time."

And that was when Clover crumbled. The house of cards he'd built up through shows of confidence, arrogance, fell down in waves, and for the first time since he was a boy, he cried.

The sting of tears burned his eyes, his senses unused to the feeling and, thus, so much more sensitive. His nose clogged and his jaw clenched, and the whine that forced its way up his throat and out between his teeth was a laughable sound. But Qrow put his arms around Clover, as Clover had done for him, and he held his boyfriend tightly. He cradled Clover with a loving tenderness, let him hide against his chest, in the crook of his neck. Qrow was a warmth that welcomed his pain, that let him feel it and crumble under its weight without leaving him to drift or drown. Qrow was safe. Qrow was home.

Long fingers threaded through the longer locks at the front of Clover's head, preening, caring, and Clover sobbed at the softness of the affection. "Oh, Cloves." Qrow whispered, resting his pointy chin on the top of his boyfriend's head. It could have been minutes he spent weeping, it could have been hours. It may as well have been days as far as he was concerned.

Clover could only thank the gods that the girls were occupied upstairs. He couldn't stand the thought of them seeing him breaking apart like this; their faith in him would be ruined.

Or was that just what Atlas had taught him? Was that just how his teammates would react? The girls weren’t a part of Atlas. Qrow wasn’t a part of Atlas. They were his family. They wouldn’t reprimand him for this, would they? They wouldn’t reject him, relinquish their trust in him?

It didn’t seem like it. Even as he cried so pathetically, he was still being accepted, welcomed, comforted.

Qrow, broken and worn down by the world as he was, still had a place in his heart for Clover, still had strength to hold the Captain’s pain for just a while. This incredible man who’d gone through so much already, was still kind, still capable of love, nowhere near as crushed and hardened by the world as he thought he was.

And that man loved Clover. How was Clover so lucky?

“It’s okay, let it out.” Qrow whispered, stroking down the metal of his back. “you’re a good man, Clover. You’re wonderful, in fact. But you’re only human. Just like me. Just like your boss.”

“The General wouldn’t be crying over his mistakes.” Clover said miserably.

But Qrow simply chuckled. “Heh. You’d be surprised what he’d cry over – but that’s not the point.” He caught up before Clover could inquire. “It’s gonna ruin you if you force yourself to bury this stuff. Maybe that’s why you’re having so many bad dreams.”

“I don’t...” Clover finally admitted, “I don’t know how to.”

“Then let me help. Let me help you like you’ve helped me.” Qrow nuzzled his nose when Clover raised his head to glance up at his beloved. He cupped the Captain’s face in his, silver rings warmed by body heat against his wet cheeks, and his tears were wiped away. “I l...” He shut his eyes and grimaced softly, and Clover wished he would just say it. He wished with all his heart that Qrow would let go of that fear and just let the words fall from his mouth.

“You’re not cursed.” Clover breathed. “You’re not. You won’t lose me once you love me.”

“I already do, I...” He sighed softly. His eyes flickered open, that red that had once burned through Clover’s very soul now made camp in his chest, made a little tamed fire flicker so comfortingly between his ribs.

Clover kissed him gently. Then he kissed him again. All little sparks of lips and tongue, tender, healing, coaxing trust and patience from one-another. “I love you, Qrow. You can say it. Say ‘I love you’.” Clover whispered, quietly urging those words to form between Qrow’s lips. “’I love you’,” he uttered each syllable with understanding, with love, “’I love you’. I’ll be okay.”

“I...” Qrow’s breath shuddered, and he drew Clover closer to him, “I will. I will. Just... I will, I promise.”

Clover smiled just a touch, sniffling. “Okay.”

“I do. You know I do. Please don’t think I don’t.” He placed a hand on Clover’s chest. “I guess we’re both a little bit broken, eh?”

“Just a little. Nothing we can’t fix.” Clover placed his hand over Qrow’s.

Qrow smiled, but his smile faltered, gave way for something more serious. “I need you to promise me you’ll tell me when you feel like shit. Don’t just say you’re fine and leave it to rot away.”

“I’ll...” Clover swallowed. “I’ll try.”

“You’re not just the Ace-Ops Captain to me, you know. You’re Clover. You can just be Clover when you’re with me.” Qrow rested his forehead against his boyfriend’s, “and Clover is allowed to be scared or upset. You got it?”

“I got it, you don’t need to rub salt in the wound.” Clover looked away, reaching for the tissues to mop up his face.

“I’m not, you know I’m not. I want to make sure you’re alright. You’ve done the same for me.” Qrow glanced at the stairs as they heard the girls giggling and laughing upstairs. He smiled affectionately, before turning back to Clover. “You should go and rest. I’ll do dinner tonight.”

“Are you sure...?” He gestured to Qrow’s leg.

“Of course – if all else fails, we’ll get takeout.”

Clover managed a smile, before resting his head against Qrow’s briefly. “...Thank you. For everything.”

He could hear Yang and Ruby bounding down the stairs as he left for the spare room, shutting the door behind him, and he let himself slide down the wooden panel. His lashes stuck together, still wet with tears, his face hot to the touch and his back aching in protest.

Even as he washed his face in the ensuite sink, splashed icy cold water against his cheeks, he couldn’t say he felt... better. There was pain in catharsis, like ripping off an old scab. It may lead to healing, but it still hurt.

Would Atlas even accept him back now that he was like this? Would the General want him back, weak and softened by civilian life? Or was he thinking much too hard about the entire thing? Visions of blood and snow, feathers and shrapnel floated about in his head, grating, scraping. The fear, the pain, the realization of a loneliness that had followed him since he was a boy, the guilt of viewing his home in such a horrid light. The echo of words he desperately wished he could hear Qrow say. The secrets he was keeping, of Maidens and Salem. The cold of the tundra. The idea that perhaps he really was just a man, just one man in a world far bigger than he’d ever imagined. It all swept him up in great waves of tepid seawater, until it pulled him down into the murkiest depths of sleep.


End file.
